Six Years to War
by Malquoria
Summary: Disastrous events in the battle against Voldemort causes Harry to lose six years of his life. He reawakens to find the wizarding world on the brink of open war. War against the Muggles, against an emerging evil, and worse, against itself.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Iam making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

**Summary**: Harry's sent to the future. Wait, don't run off. This is different from the other time-travel stories. One, it's to the future, which I haven't seen too much of. Two, Harry won't be going back to the past in this tale. He finds himself in the middle of a war opening up between the wizards and muggles, and between the wizards themselves. The Ministry has become a totalitarian regime, causing the people a lot of strife. Voldemort may be gone, but there's always trouble to contend with for Harry.

_Author notes_: I value criticism and praise. Please take a couple of minutes to actually tell me what you like and/or dislike. Is the story going too fast or slow? Are the characters interesting? Would you prefer longer chapters, which would mean longer times between updates? Or shorter chapters with quicker updates?

This story will be finished and updated as frequently as possible. I'll try to keep a chapter per two weeks. Worse comes to worse, at least a chapter a month. But that wouldn't be usual, hopefully. I dislike long delays, and hate unfinished stories.

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Prologue

Voldemort fell to the ground, his eyes expressionless. He died with no fanfare, no crowd to watch him fall. He died as ignobly as his many victims. His quest for immortality had ended just as violently as it had begun.

Harry staggered, unable to stand properly after the fight. They were alone, aside from Pettigrew's seemingly dead body nearby. Hogwarts loomed over them, devoid of people.

Oh bugger, thought Harry, that didn't go as he had planned. Actually killing Voldemort was far more difficult than finding the horcruxes. Thankfully, it was all over.

Unfortunately for poor Harry, trouble seems to find him, even when he was in the most hidden of places.

A groan came from Harry's side. Displaying his highly trained abilities, he had his wand out in the direction of the sound within a second.

"Master," moaned a pitiful, bloody heap.

Once again disproving the evolutionary fact of the strongest surviving, Pettigrew was still alive. Harry lowered his wand. Pettigrew couldn't even hurt himself in this state. He deserved to die, left on his own. To watch what he had betrayed everyone for destroyed, while dying slowly in the process.

Or did he? Harry thought. For the second time in his life, Harry Potter was contemplating sparing the life of his parents' betrayer, the reason why his life had love missing.

That hesitation allowed Pettigrew time to raise a wand Harry hadn't seen. Before Harry could move, the dreaded Latin words were spat.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

The green light hit him while he was still bending his legs for the jump. Pain engulfed him in the centre of his body. The pain was just as unphysical as the Cruciatus. Hot coals seemed to have been pressed on his chest. The pain spread across his body, until he was engulfed by it.

Harry screamed, wishing it would end. Let death claim him; the pain was too much to bear.

And as one of the ultimate clichés goes, then it all went black.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.

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Chapter 1  
Entrance

Recall a dreamless sleep. Does it not seem as if just when you've closed your eyes at night, you're awake at the morning? In that exact manner, when the world closed upon Harry's conscious, it opened up again immediately.

He knew something was wrong before he opened his eyes. First, the pungent smell of death was absent. There were birds chirping about. And if his closed eyes were not betraying him, there was light shining on him.

He opened his eyes, to see himself basking in the warm glow of the sunlight. The problem was that the duel against Voldemort took place at night, and worse, in the winter. Was he asleep for months?

That's where something more puzzling emerged. His injuries were gone. His broken ankle? Felt fine. His sore chest? Perfect. Heck even his scar was non-existent in pain, which almost never happened. The pain from the killing curse was gone, too, having no after-effects.

He was still at Hogwarts, though. But his location there was even different. He was facing the lake. Last he remembered he was at the gates of Hogwarts.

He faced Hogwarts, and promptly gasped. The building was fine. All the demolished areas were rebuilt. In fact, they looked better than before.

Someone was running to him from the castle. Well at first, it looked like half a person, but upon closer inspection, the half body was revealed to be a little girl.

What's going on, here? Harry thought. Either this girl ignored the evacuation orders, or the orders were rescinded while he was knocked out. Just how long was he unconscious?

"Professor Potter!" yelled the little redhead.

_Professor?_ Harry wondered. Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. Now Professor!

"Please, dear," said Harry warmly. The girl looked agitated.

"Harry will be fine," he said firmly.

The girl's eyes widened in shock. She shrank back, and looked around for someone else.

"Sir," she persisted in the weird talk, "Professor McGonagall wants to talk to you, in her office."

"Okay," replied Harry.

If he was missing, why was McGonagall calling for him. What exactly was going on?

It was times like this when he remembered Professor Marcello's favourite sayings; when in absolute doubt, go along and wait until the truth comes to you.

The girl ran off after hearing him. Funny, when Harry does something right, people usually stare in awe. It's only after things go wrong when they run.

He shook his head in bemusement, and then headed towards the castle. He entered not meeting anyone, and was on the same floor as the headmaster's office when he saw him.

It was a pitiful disguise at best. It was two years since Harry saw him indirectly cause Dumbledore's death. Seriously, if you were infiltrating Hogwarts, one of the most fortified buildings in Great Britain, you'd at least dye your distinctive platinum blond hair.

Harry snuck up to him so silently, that he was sure his late Dutch professor was smiling in his grave. He grabbed Malfoy's right shoulder once they passed an empty classroom, and then shoved him roughly to the left.

Malfoy lost his footing and fell to the ground. By the time he looked up, the door was closed, and Harry's wand was pointed right between his eyes.

Harry expected shock, but this was plain weird. Malfoy looked at him like Harry went mad.

"Harry," he said (said, not drawled), "What the bloody hell are you up to? Help me up."

"What!" thundered Harry, "Just how badly did Voldemort torture you? I'm going to kill you, quite harshly, too. Dumbledore will finally be avenged. When I'm done with you..."

Harry stopped there. Malfoy looked different, but not disguised.

"I will ask you one question," he growled, "And if you wish to live, answer swiftly and truthfully."

Malfoy gulped, realizing Harry was serious. Why would he think otherwise?

"How old are you?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What year did you say this was, again?" asked a weary Harry.

Half an hour had passed, and they were still in the office. Harry was seating on the teacher's desk, while Malfoy stood by the door. After a bunch of insults and threats, not to mention a couple of punches, too (from Harry's side mainly), Harry finally believed Malfoy.

"I said it three times already," replied Malfoy, annoyed, "It's August 31st, 2005, Harry."

"Don't call me Harry. Potter, or Potty, or Pothead will do quite fine."

"Fine!" spat Malfoy, who looked hurt. "As we're repeating stuff, are you telling me you have no memory after 1999?"

"No Malfoy," said Harry wearily, "I have had no experience since 1999. I had just defeated Voldemort, and before I could say another word, Pettigrew Kedavra'd me. Bingo, before you could blink, I found myself here.

"Are you saying there's been a Harry Potter running around while I was unconscious!"

"Yes," said Malfoy for the umpteenth time. "You returned from the battle, and continued your life."

"What am I? And what am I doing here in Hogwarts, anyways?"

"Blimey, Potter! You're a Professor! I am one, to. So is..."

"What do I teach?" Harry interrupted, fascinated that he became what he never expected to be, a teacher. How Fred and George must have given him problems!

"Defense," said Malfoy, annoyed at the interruption. "Look, Ha... Potter. What are you going to do?"

"Firstly, you tell no-one of this. This is an unknown situation, and I always stay low in one. Secondly, I'm going to find a way to go back."

"You're not even going to tell Ron and Granger!" asked Malfoy, incredulous.

"They're here?" asked Harry. He felt something unclench his heart.

Ever since realizing he was somehow in the future, he was waiting for Malfoy to say one of the two, or both, was dead. That's the kind of luck he was used to.

Malfoy opened his mouth to talk, but Harry shushed him quickly. He felt someone's presence in the previously empty corridor. He did a spell on the wall, making it transparent. What he saw brought tears to his eyes.

Ron was on the other side of the corridor, heading in their direction.

He looked different, Harry thought. He snorted, different was an understatement. It was a wonder what six years can do to someone.

Ron seemed to have grown, if possible, and his hair was as long as his seventh year, when he decided to allow it to reach the back of his neck. He walked with an assurance Harry had never seen. His head was high and the steps taken with grace. He reminded Harry of someone.

Ron had his wand out, and pointed in many directions. Harry recognized that Ron was doing a variation of the spell he used to detect Ron's presence. But Ron was looking for someone. His agitated demeanor, and the spell of course, gave that away. Harry quickly muttered an easy counter-charm that made him invisible to the spell.

Now he realized it, he was walking just like Kingsley did.

But he forgot about Malfoy, and Ron detected the blond git.

Ron walked to the door and opened it, while Harry removed the revealing spell from the wall. He looked round and saw Harry and Malfoy. His

"Both your arrows were at _Mortal Peril_," he gasped as if taking a long run. He went up to Harry hugged him hard.

While Harry was already speechless (He and Ron only hugged like this once before), what floored him was when Ron went and hugged Malfoy next.

It's clearly a trap, thought Harry, taking out his wand and got ready for a duel. Moody would've been disgusted with him. He let his guard down to his enemies for such an elaborate trap. He was fortunate that they made such a muck-up like Ron hugging Malfoy.

Before Ron could pull away, Harry yelled, "Petrifcus Totalus," twice, knocking out the both of them.

He calmly walked up to their prone bodies, and rolled them over. He quickly took their wands from the robes. He squatted over Ron's imposter's face.

"Right," said Harry, in his interrogator voice. "I'm going to let your heads free from the spell. One attempt of escape and I'll kill the both of you."

He let the spell off their heads. At once, they both started babbling.

"Silence!" ordered Harry, and they both complied. "Malfoy, you go first. I want to see what you've got to explain this nonsense."

"Harry... I mean Potter. Don't do anything rash."

"What the bloody hell's going on?" growled Ron. "Harry, get us out!"

"I swear Potter, I told you the truth."

"Let's see," replied Harry, clearly enjoying the look of terror on Malfoy. Some things never changed.

"I'll ask this Ron two questions, and he has to answer them right. One: what happened on November at the astronomy tower in our third year, which you called an embarrassment of your life? Two, what's your middle name?"

"Percy was snogging Penelope," said Ron, still bemused. "Two, it's Bilius."

Harry was stunned. This Ron knew the answer to the first, a question so vague no imposter would think to find it out. The second was a trick question. It was Ron's emotions which Harry wanted to see. This Ron even gave the usual embarrassed look whenever someone asked him that.

Harry released them from the body-bind.

"Not in six years," he said, "not in sixteen, and not even in sixty years would you two ever be friends!"

"Just what the bloody hell are you talking about, Harry!" Ron yelled, his composure shattered.

"Let me get this straight," said Ron in disbelief. "You're telling me that your memories stop at Voldemort's defeat!"

"Not my memories," sighed Harry. They didn't seem to understand. "My experiences end there. I just defeated Voldemort, and then Pettigrew used the killing curse on my, and voila! I'm six years to the future."

"But you told us you felt some pain, and it ended. Nothing happened after that," insisted Ron.

"I said that?" asked Harry. "Wait a sec. How could I say that when I wasn't there? Heck, who was this Harry living all these years if I wasn't here?"

"Beats me," said Malfoy.

Harry glared at him.

"You're not helping, Draco," said Ron in annoyance.

"Draco? Since when was Malfoy Draco? If you tell me Hermione's all chummy with him, so help me, I'm jumping off the Astronomy tower."

Ron and Malfoy laughed at that.

"Speaking of Hermione, where is she?" asked Harry.

"She's around the castle," answered Ron. "She teaches Transfiguration, while Draco teaches Charms."

"Impressive," said Harry. "What do you do?"

"He's an Auror," said Malfoy proudly.

"Hey," said Harry. "How did that happen? You weren't interested before."

"After Voldemort fell, there was some confusion about the Death Eaters. You, Hermione and I became free-lance helpers to hunt them down. I was the only one who wanted to stay when we were done.

"Wait a sec…" continued Ron, puzzled. "If you still think Draco's the git from the past, why did you believe him?"

"Legimency," replied Harry, grinning.

Ron was impressed, "What! You can do Legimency? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I can do very little Legimency, but this would've been an extremely large lie, so I'd easily pick it up, as Malfoy isn't an Occlumens at all. Occlumency, on the other hand, I'm an expert at. I learnt it the two years I spent in continental Europe, among the other training. Why, didn't I tell you after the war?'

"You told us that you got teachers assigned by the International Confederation of Wizards to help you out, and that most were from Europe. You never mentioned Legimency. In fact, I'm sure you've mentioned once or twice that you wish you could be an Occlumens. They're illegal now, you know."

"Puzzling," said Harry. "We'll deal with that later. First, neither of you can tell can tell anyone. I mean no-one. Who knows what may arise if people gain the knowledge that this I've lost six years of my life. No, once I find a way to go back, and your Harry returns, tell the world for all I care."

"Not even Hermione?" was Ron's shocked reply.

"I wasn't going to tell you," said Harry, "until you got all romantic with Malfoy here buggered up my plans. I don't know either of you here. You must tell Hermione nothing…"

"Must not tell Hermione what?" was said from the door.

Harry looked at the doorway, and his mouth fell open.

Hermione was standing there, and she changed as much as Ron. Her wild, bushy hair was shortened slightly, taming it. Her face was different like Ron, just as mature. But what Harry noticed the most, was her figure. He always knew Hermione looked good, but she never acted like she knew herself. She leaned on the open door, standing with as much confidence as Ron.

Seriously, just how much can one change anyways? Harry thought angrily. Only six years had passed. His former best friends looked like bloody strangers. This confirmed that he needed to find a way to go back, quickly as well.

"Nice of you to meet us, Granger," said Malfoy. "We were just discussing a birthday party for you. It's at September, right?"

"When did you get so beautiful?" whispered Harry. It wasn't low enough to prevent the other three from hearing, though. The looks the others gave him made his face warm. Great, a twenty-five year old Harry was blushing after admiring his friend. Damn his adolescent mind.

"Oh, well," dismissed Harry, "keeping secrets from Hermione never worked out, anyways. Ron, go ahead and tell her. I have things to think about."

"Like what?" asked Malfoy.

"Like how to get back home."

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

Ron proceeded to tell her everything. Harry wasn't listening to him. He was watching his former friends intently, trying to absorb their faces into his mind, comparing them to his world.

His world. He clearly didn't belong here. Ron and Hermione changed, so had everything else. Harry wanted to go through the changes with them, not try to catch up. He got angry. After all he suffered, he was once again expected to sacrifice again. First it was his family, then his schooling, and now six years of his life. Why him? Why _him_?

There was only one person who he could talk to about this. But even he's gone, thought Harry viciously. Well... not exactly.

He slammed the table, startling everyone.

"Right," he said. "I'm off to see Dumbledore. Remember, no-one can know, until I say so."

With that, he walked out of the room, leaving behind three bewildered people.

"I thought you said his supposed loss of memory took place _after_ Voldemort's death," asked Hermione.

"I did," said Ron, just as confused. "He should know Dumbledore's dead."

"Have you two forgotten Dumbledore was a headmaster of Hogwarts?"

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Please review. Thanks. 


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No financial gain is derived by this story what-so-ever. All original characters are mine.**

A/N: Some explanations in this chapter. Hope I got it right. While I'm a science student, I'm no expert in what I'm writing here. Even less in British politics. Feel free to point out any errors so I can edit them.

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Chapter 2  
Long-winded Explanations

Harry reached the gargoyle entrance to the headmistress's office.

He stood there, wondering what McGonagall would use as a password. It would never be sweets, he thought with a laugh. Something people would deem... proper.

Minerva McGonagall was the sort of person who presented herself in a manner that made people think of her exactly as she wanted them to. Usually that meant a strict persona.Once you got to know her personally, outside of work, she was far friendlier. She'd never let her hair down, figuratively nor literally (as Dumbledore loved to say), though.

He stood there for five minutes, stumped. He couldn't think of one thing McGonagall would use. In the end he decided he'd somehow signal his presence. Right, now how did that spell go?

Harry raised his wand and let it down quick, muttering an incantation as he did so. The blare of trumpets was released, the beating of drums accompanying them. It sounded like those military parades he'd watch as a kid on the telly.

The gargoyle jumped aside.The little girl who he met previously stood behind it. She looked around in shock. Someone stood behind her.

At least someone stayed the same. McGonagall looked just like she did when Harry first came to Hogwarts, barring some lines on her face and more strands ofwhitening hair (quite understandable as well, the nuisance Voldemort was).

"Quite effective, Harry. Perhaps too effective," she remarked with a smile, rubbing her ears. "Why didn't you just say the password?"

"I forgot," said Harry, trying to get a sheepish look.

"Goodness me, that's the fourth time this year," she laughed. "It's _lemon drops_"

You're kidding me. Candy passwords? It was unexpected,a perfect password.Or maybe it's her way of remember the old guy.

"Natalie," she said to the little girl, who looked like she wanted to run away from Harry. "Let's go."

Harry went with them to the office, and promptly stopped at the door.

Everything was different. Dumbledore's unusual possessions were all absent, replaced by McGonagall's things. Normal things like books, photographs, amongst them. Harry never went back to Dumbledore's office after his funeral. While it had been eight years, including his time in Europe, it still left him stunned.

Harry looked at the portraits, and saw Dumbledore standing in one. Even dead, he always was the first person you'd spot in a crowd. He wore a light blue robes, emblazoned with gold stars and silver crescents, totally different from the dark, respectful robes worn by the other ex-headmasters.

"Professor Dumbledore," breathed Harry. He tried fighting emotions that threatened to tear out of him.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry just looked at him expressionless. Even when one of them was dead, it seems like this game had to be played. The game where Harry was hiding something, and then said something that perks Dumbledore's suspicion. Dumbledore makes a vague statement, or gets a look on his face, to clearly show Harry (without actually saying it) that he knows something's off.

But what exactly tipped him off? All he said was Professor... wait that was it. Harry was a professor. He'd call Dumbledore, Albus. He'd have to make sure to call McGonagall, Minerva, he realised as he sat down, if he wanted to avoid causing more suspicion.

"What have you called me for, Minerva?" he asked.

"Well," replied McGonagall, "I got a visit from the Head Minister."

She paused, and Harry wondered why she didn't go on.

"And? What did he want?" Harry realised that it was a stupid comment when she looked at him as if he was stupid.

"The ministry's changed a few things of the Defence curriculum, and he deemed it necessary to inform me the day before the children arrive," she said, her mouth very thin. "Here's what they do not want taught this year." She passed a blue folder to him.

"If you'll excuse me," she said, getting up. "I have a meeting with Hermione."

"Do you mind if I stay here for a while? I wish to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

"By all means do," replied McGonagall. "Natalie, let's go. Unless you want to stay with Professor Potter?"

The girl shook her head, and left with McGonagall.

"You never know the importanceof shy children," said a voice to Harry's side, "until they lose it when they grow up and spout stupid nonsense."

Harry rotated his chair so it faced the portraits. Dumbledore had that twinkle in his eye that Harry missed.

"Professor," said Harry. "It's good to see you again."

"And I, Harry, and I," replied his former headmaster, before sighing sadly."Tell me, what madness have you gotten into this time?"

"What?" asked Harry perplexed. How did Dumbledore notice his problems so easily? Damn that infernal twinkle.

Dumbledore laughed at Harry's shock. "It's quite simple mistake you made. I asked you to call me Albus since 2001. Not once have you called me Professor since. It's always the simplest of things that are the most revealing."

"I was going to tell you something was wrong," said Harry, laughing, "but it seems that all-knowing look of yours has shown itself once again."

And with that, Harry told Dumbledore everything. This was, in a way, different from his interactions with Dumbledore in his lifetime. Then, Harry would reveal everything _after_ the events came to a close. It felt better this way.

"Most puzzling," said Dumbldore. "It seems that the second person who has survived Avada Kedavra is the first person."

"What can you get from that?"

"Like our last year together, we must re-enter the realm of conjecture and doubtable thought.

"It seems from your pain, this killing curse has affected you, unlike the previous one which just bounced off, with a few lingering effects."

"If it did," said Harry, "then how was it that there was a Harry that was running along, living _my_ life?"

"That's the problem," said Dumbledore in thought. "If it worked, you'd be dead. If it didn't you'd be okay. Instead a sort of separation occurred…

"Wait Harry, allow me time to think. Do not interrupt."

Harry obeyed, and didn't say a word. He read the blue folder McGonagall gave him. It seemed to be a bunch of things that were not allowed to be taught to the children. They were all completely acceptable, leaving Harry in complete bemusement. Why were they forbidden? Some were quite effective means to avoid detection, some were defence spells, and some were attacking spells.

An hour passed, and then two. Harry had gotten all the teachings in his head, and was just thinking to go out for a walk until Dumbledore came back to this world, when Dumbledore spoke.

"It explains it, but is it possible? Can it happen?" whispered Dumbledore.

"What, sir?" asked Harry cautiously. He rarely saw Dumbledore this nervous. "What are you thinking?"

"It's pure guesswork on my part. We're dealing with the most unknown facts."

"What is it?" Get on with it, man!

"The soul, Harry, the soul." replied Dumbledore. "Imagine if the killing curse worked, but at the same time did not."

"And that's possible how…"

"Think! The killing curse is, by analogy, a cutting curse. It severs your soul from your body. What if there was some unknown factor, some madness, that instead of it functioning as it normally would, it would instead sever the soul."

"That's impossible!" dismissed Harry.

"You of all people know that it is not. You've dealt with Horcruxes. They are the willful separation of the soul. And how are they made?"

"By killing," replied a stunned Harry.

"Now, can such a separation occur by accident? Not likely. The several circumstances must work entirely in your favour. And once again, Harry, you are the exception that proves that"

"How?"

"You spared Pettigrew's life. It has very rarely happened that one would owe a life-debt and use the killing curse on the person to whom the life-debt is owed. That is only one probable reason I could come up with. It may even be possible that your mother's sacrificed may have lingered to help out."

"Perhaps," said Harry, "but how does it explain the fact that I returned six years later. Why not instantaneous? Why not at all? And, why does it seem to me mere seconds had passed, when years had passed instead."

"To answer why you returned in six years or why not at all is beyond my comprehension. You were fortunate in that regards, it seems.

"This explains the fact there was a Harry living around, while a part of you was absent. Perhaps by pure unfortunate luck, the dominant part of you went missing. How this affected your character is a mystery to me. Perhaps it didn't, perhaps it did. Would it affect your memories, abilities, likes or dislikes? All this is a murky thought. You could ask Hermione and Ronald as they knew you the best, and the smallest of differences would be picked up by them, if at all.

"To deal with the difference of time is harder to explain. Tell me Harry, have you heard about the muggle physics work on time? I mean the likes of Einstein, for example."

"I've covered a bit in Europe, yes. Not in detail, though."

"That won't matter," said Dumbledore. "Now, in muggle physics, time is relative. I take it to mean that it isn't a constant. One minute is not always one minute. Length of time depends on many issues. Einstein's special theory of relativity implies that you can travel into someone else's future by high speed travel in space. Traveling to the past is even more confusing, and doesn't concern us.

"Using high speed travel, one can travel into the future. To the traveler, a short period of time has passed. To the world he re-visits, a much longer time has passed."

"How would it affect me?" asked Harry. "I didn't jump on some high speed train that travels to the future."

"But you did Harry, it seems that you did," was Dumbledore's reply. "Tell me, what is the spells we use made out of?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "It seems like light."

"Exactly, and what is the fastest thing possible?"

The answer dawned on Harry.

"The speed of light," he answered. "But _how_?"

"Part of your soul, which was your consciousness, was separated by the killing curse, which is made from light like all other spells. It seems that it somehow remained with the light and was carried, like a train in your analogy, through space. This would allow you to feel a few minutes passed, when the world sped through many years."

Harry was silent after this. It was alot to accept. It explained much, and if Dumbledore thought it was true, it would be as close to the truth as he would ever get.

"How can I get back?"

Dumbledore looked extremely saddened at this.

"Don't you see Harry? You never left."

"Yes, I did. You just said a part of my soul left."

"Not your body, nor the rest of your sould. How could we send you back? Even if there was a time-turner for that, you're twenty-five year old body would go back. _Not_ the nineteen year old version of yourself."

"We could send back the part of my soul," replied Harry defiantly.

"How?" asked a patient Dumbledore. "By sending the killing curse back at you? Who'll do it? You burnt Pettigrew alive after you the pain of the curse that caused this mess left you. Even if he did the same curse to you, you might be sent further to the future, and not the past."

"So what are you saying?" growled Harry, standing up. "That I have to somehow _accept_ this? I lost my family to the war. I lost my school years, which most enjoy, but I had to go off fighting Voldemort and basilisks and the ministry through mine!"

He grabbed hold of his chair, and promptly threw it at the shelf. Two legs broke off, as many books fell off the shelf.

"Everybody else is fine after the war!" he yelled. "But it's always me. It's always me who suffers. Now I have to give up six years of my life!"

"Harry," spoke Dumbledore calmly, like they were discussing the weather. "Calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down!" snarled Harry. "What do you know about sacrifice? I must have done something far more terrible than Voldemort to deserve this."

"I know a lot about sacrifice," replied Dumbledore, his eyes flashing.

"Yeah?" spat Harry. "What Dark Lord have you defeated…? Sorry,I forgot." _Grindelwald_

His anger deflated slightly, and he sank to the ground.

"Why me, Professor?"

"It's not your fault, Harry."

"I know."

"It's not your fault, Harry."

"I know," Harry spat, his anger flaring again.

"It's not your fault, Harry."

"I KNOW!" Harry screamed.

"It's not your fault, Harry."

"Why not?" Harry whispered after a pause. "Everything happens to me."

"And the world is grateful that someone so worthy was given the cause. Do not despair, there are positives to this mess."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact you lost 6 years and not sixty. What if you came back and you were on your death-bed? Great people do the best with the time they have. Fools waste it with despair. What if it was another Death Eater that attacked you? One without a life-debt owed to you?"

Harry chuckled. "You did say sparing Pettigrew's life could come up to my advantage."

"And it has, Harry, it has," Dumbledore said firmly. "The world is dark once again. And the enemy has changed."

"What? Another Dark Lord?"

"No, nothing that bad. Nothing that good," said Dumbledore, back to his cryptic self. "Suffice as it to say you'll find out very soon. Right now, get used to the world. Embrace life and your friends. Voldemort is gone from you forever."

Harry got up, ready to leave.

"One more thing Harry," Dumbledore said. Harry stopped at the door. "Well, two really. One, the other you refused to enter this matter to help the wizarding world. He said he had done enough for a life-time. That it was up to others.I hope you would not do the same."

"Never, Professor," replied Harry firmly. "After all, I have this hero thing."

Dumbledore smiled.

"One more thing," he said, eyes now twinkling again.

"Yes?"

"Perhaps it would be wise to fix the chair and the fallen books you made a mess off before Minerva returns and kills you?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry left the office (after dealing with the mess, of course), and then stopped at the corridor.

Where would he go? It's not like he knew where his office nor his bedroom were. His stomach then growled. When in doubt, Harry decided, follow his hunger. He hadn't eaten since coming here.

He went towards the Great Hall. As he walked, he saw that Hogwarts barely changed. Probably looked like this for the past thousand years. A few things changed, mainly because they were destroyed by Voldemort himself. Not easy to do a Reparo on that.

He walked in the Great Hall, and realised it was the end of lunch. There was only one table that was occupied. Ron, Hermione, McGonagall and Malfoy were the only ones seated.

Ron looked up, and was going to yell something, but was stopped by Hermione's slap to the back of his head. McGonagall and Malfoy were amused by the interaction.

Harry sat across from his two friends, because the only seat available near them was beside Malfoy. No way was laying low meant sitting beside the ferret.

"Did talking to Dumbledore help you?" McGonagall asked.

"As he was fond of saying, he was of immense help, and he was useless."

"It's was over two hours," exclaimed Hermione, who got into the recieving end of a slap.

"It was?" asked Harry, feigning surprise. "Time does fly."

"Anyways," said Ron, "I was just telling Hermione about the recent spate of attacks."

"And?" asked Harry, interested. There were attacks. From whom? Why? Against what? And how? He couldn't risk asking questions, as he could ask something he already knew about, which would make McGonagall suspicious.

"Well, three soldiers in the muggle army attacked a group of wizards in London. Two of the soldiers died, and five wizards."

Harry looked at Ron hard. It was so hard not to grab him by the chest and ask him what the hell was going on. Why the hell were muggles, soldiers no less, attacking wizards?

The look on his eyes told Ron to shut up. They kept silent until McGonagall left the table.

"Now," said Harry when the Great Hall doors closed, "what's all this about muggles attacking wizards?"

"Maybe we should start at the beginning," remarked Hermione.

"Maybe you should."

During the war against Voldemort, countless muggles were attacked. The Ministry, being preoccupied with the actual war itself, had little opportunity to obliviate them. As a result, a number of muggles then learned of the wizards.

"Who told them?" asked Harry.

It seems that the Muggle government felt that after seeing magic, usually by torture, the muggles had a right to know what happened to them if they weren't obliviated. They couldn't be left to think that they were crazy.

This revelation couldn't be controlled. The muggles informed told their families and friends, and so on. While laughed at in the beginning, the continous occurence of 'incidents' and other muggles reporting the same things in the media resulted in more people believing the existence in wizards.

"When did all this happen?" interupted Harry.

Well, around 2000, a good proportion of muggles knew of the magic existence. These muggles would announce it publicly, and it was only a matter of time when a majority would know the truth.

A cloak of fear fell upon the magical world. Their existence was tied directly with their secrecy. Muggles far out-numbered the magical people. Any conflict that may arise would result in huge losses of the magical world.

"Why should conflict occur?" asked Harry.

"Don't you remember History of Magic?" asked Hermione, irritated.

"I remember lots of sleep," offered Ron unhelpfully.

It has happened many times before in history. Muggles fear, above all else, the unknown. Just knowing that there were wizards who possessed powers scared the muggles, from politicians to the army, from secularists to the religious people. It was one of the few things that could unite such a group. Violence was usually an effect from all this.

Upon the fear emmiting from both sides, new politicians emerged from either sides. The magical party, called the Protection of the Magical Way, came up in the magical world, while the Truth and Honour party started in the muggle world. Each party's position was the defence of their own world against the instigators of violence on the other side.

For the first couple of years, these groups were dismissed as war-mongering fanatics (with ludicrously bad names). Over time, and increased tensions on both sides, their ideas seemed more appealing for a few of the people.

That was before the 2002 disaster. That lit the spark.

A magical feast was taking place in Manchester during one summer night, when a group of thugs saw them. Many of the wizards and witches chose to wear the quite distinctive robes.

The thugs attacked the wizards, resulting in a large street fight. At first, the wizards had the upper hand, until the police arrived. The wizards didn't know what muggle law enforcement looked like, and the police were baffled by their refusal to listen to them. One of the police-man fired a shot which hit a witch.

This is when pandemonium happened. The wizards, who were holding back the lethal curses, threw everything (and some sinks) at the muggles. Unforgivables, dark curses, stunners all lit the evening. Some policemen were even hit with the Imperius, forcing them to attack the muggles.

The fighting stopped when Magical Law Enforcers popped into the mix, and force apparated all the wizards out.

Tit-for-tat strikes erupted throughout the nation. Deaths were reported almost daily. From Scotland to Southampton, groups of vigilantes mushroomed, both magical and muggle, to 'protect' their own. It wouldn't be too surprising to see muggles patrolling the streets with guns, nor wizards with wands. Where the muggles would get such firearms remained a mystery.

This caused a political disaster. The muggle and magical governments were shackled by the angry populations from reasoning with one another.

After all this, the two new parties informed their respective people that they were warning this all along. Emotional people, whether by fear or hate, always make interesting decisions.

Scrimgeour lost the people's faith. He insisted that the muggles were not all to blame, and that the rogue elements on both sides were the ones instigating the mess. While he had support at first, theattacks destroyed that. The people were scared, and Scrimgeour asking for people to remain calm seemed as cowardice to the people.

The leader of the Protection of the Magical Way party, Didius Quinrian, became far more appealing to the people. He was a young man, a few years older than Harry, who spoke of the failures of the previous ministries. Their inabilities dealing with Voldemort, and their inabilities dealing with the muggles.

"A new way is emerging," he roared in one speech in Diagon Alley, to the cheers of hundreds. "A way that will take us to the future. Away from the threat of Dark Lords, and from muggles."

Winter elections came that year, and Scrimgeour was ousted, with Didius Quinrian becoming one of the youngest Ministers of Magic in history,at the age of 30.

This was not lost on the muggles. Infighting in the parliament resulted in the muggle government losing important bills, forcing the muggle Prime Minister to call for elections. The Labour Party, Conservatives and the Liberal-Democrats were routed by the Truth and Honour party, who got an overall majority.

While it was remarkable that a new party not only win in their first election, it was even more stunning with such a majority rule. The three opposition parties tried to do everything to stall the rise of the Truth and Honour party, even by trying to reject the Queen's Speech, which would mean a vote of no confidence. This was ineffective as the Truth and Honour party had such a great majority. Plus, the protests that exploded in most of Britain in anger at the oppositions' actions didn't help, either. The Prime Minister was forced to submit his resignation to the Queen.

The queen then commisioned the leader of the Truth and Honour party, Micheal Gratian, to form a new government.

Both these governments were still ruling now, and have publicly announced theyreached an 'agreement'. Neither people would interfere with the other. For now, until the anger between the two peoples subsided, this meant interactions between the two populations were decreased drastically. Attacks still occured once in a while.

The respective governments decided that the people's anger was too much to expect them to deal with one another. Until the hatred decreased to an 'acceptable' level,this meant inter-marriages between muggles and magical people were no longer allowed. Also, muggle-born witches and wizards were no longer to go to Hogwarts. They wouldn't be informed of being magical, and left to live as muggles. All marriages that have already taken place, and all muggle-born students would be left alone.

"Are you telling me all this happened in just six years?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"That," said Hermione, "and more."

"What has the world come to?"

* * *

Note: About Harry's time in Europe, I'll shed more light on it later on in the story. 

Please review. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: As usual, I do not own Harry Potter. The rights are held by J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. **

A/N: I _hate_ coming up with names. Mine always sound stupid. How Tolkien did it, I don't know.

* * *

Chapter 3  
A Reason for Everything

"Tell me," said Harry, "What was I like?"

They were seated in his room. It was located in the staff quarters, and contained a living room, bedroom, and an amazing bathroom. Really, this school took care of the teachers and Prefects.

"You were," said Ron, "well, Harry."

"Quite insightful, Ron," remarked Malfoy.

"Scratch that," said Harry. "How on earth did you two become friends?"

"Don't bother asking," said Hermione. "I've been around for all these years and still can't figure it out."

"Wait, you aren't friendly with Malfoy?"

"Me?" Hermione laughed. "And the ferret? Couldn't stoop that low with being friends with that goat."

"You know," said Malfoy, annoyed, "I _am _here."

"Don't remember you being invited," replied Hermione.

"Hermione," chastised Ron. "That's harsh. I thought you were going to try."

"I was," Hermione said, "But with Harry here and calling Malfoy "The Albino Ferret" just made me excited."

"You're not telling me I was actually friends with the bugger?" asked Harry in trepidation.

"I'm still here," called Malfoy.

Hermione ignored him. "You weren't close to him, nor were you against him, like me."

"You even started to call him Draco this year," Ron said.

"Liar."

"It's true."

"How?" asked Harry.

"Get your pensieve," Ron said.

"I have one?"

"Let me get it," Hermione offered.

Soon they were seated around the pensieve, and Ron had planted his memory into it. They jumped in.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

During the war, while Harry was in Europe studying, he only returned to deal with Horcruxes. The Order of Phoenix dealt with the Death Eaters. Harry stressed that they were to not attempt any interaction with Voldemort. He didn't tell any of them, apart from Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes.

In 1998, a battle occurred in Birmingham. Death Eaters were robbing a man's house there. War wasn't cheap, and seeing Death Eaters descend to the role of burglars was common as the war raged on.

Ron apparated to the scene with the Order. With him came his future self and his guests in the memory. Immediately after arrival, the Order realised that they had underestimated the Death Eater numbers.

Their attempt to escape apparition was stopped by anti-apparition spells that were put up very quickly. They had no choice but to fight.

They fought ferociously in the house. After a time the battle moved to the living room, with the sides on either end of the room.

At that moment, Kingsley used a new spell devised by the Unspeakables to remove Death Eater masks. While the Death Eaters were already known, generally, this spell would allow the Order, and Aurors, to know the powerful Death Eaters from the weaker ones. That way, they could fight accordingly.

On that day, one of the masks was removed to reveal an unknown Death Eater. The handsome face, under long red hair, gave Kingsley a puzzle.

Should he assume the wizard was powerful and send more than two wizards at him, risking the other Death Eaters a greater chance for attacks? Or should he only send one to him, assuming he was a rookie Death Eater?

In the end, he took Ron and went to attack him, ordering the rest to fight the others.

"Incendio!" he yelled as Ron sent a disarming spell at him.

They both realised the red-head's strength when he blocked both spells with a single hand motion. He sent back a couple of curses, one blue and the other green. Kingsley and Ron dodged the curses and sent their own.

For the next few minutes or so, Ron and Kingsley sent spells to the Death Eater, which he easily blocked, all of them. He lazily sent back spells, which they attempted to dodge, succeeding mostly.

Ron and Kingsley were left panting, while the other wizard didn't break a sweat.

Devon, and Auror who was in the Order, saw Ron and Kingsley's troubles, and, to the shock of everyone around (and would be retold many times in the future), turned the sofa the Death Eaters were using as cover into a portkey, sending them a few kilometers away. The fact that he sent them into a short distance, with no direction, made the spell-casting easier.

That left the Order group and the lone red-head Death Eater in the living room. The odds seemed to be stacked against the Death Eater, seemed being the operative word.

At once, several spells were released from the eight Order members to the Death Eater. Only then did the Death Eater come to life.

"It was like watching a dance," explained Ron in wonder.

The wizards blocked and dodged all the spells thrown. He jumped around the room, in ways that defied physics. His jumps took him longer for him to go back down to the ground. He spun round with grace, and let out spells then.

Two Order members fell down, injured. This spurred the remaining six to push harder.

But they couldn't get him. He jumped and bounced off the walls... He jumped on the walls, with magic of course, and the propelled himself from them very quickly.

"Wait," interrupted Harry, shocked, "Is he bouncing of the walls? That's a trap coming."

"How can you tell," said Ron.

"I've had that done to me once."

After a while, Kingsley noticed a pattern in the seemingly random jumps. It looked like the Death Eater was going from corner to corner, around the wizards.

"It's a trap," he yelled. "He's webbing the walls."

Webbing the walls was creating barriers around a target. Very strong barriers. To make strong ones, one would touch many points on the edges of where the 'web' was to form.

It was too late, however. By the time the words died in Kingsley's mouth, the Death Eater muttered the incantation trigger. At once, a dull grey web-like light surrounded the Order members.

They sent as many spells as they could, but to no avail. Kingsley saw that the Death Eater cunningly conjured mirrors around them, and made them large enough for them to notice them.

"No killing curses!" he yelled. "There are enchanted mirrors around. We'd kill ourselves."

"Not to mention him helping out," said Ron, nursing a bleeding arm.

"Aren't you going to reveal yourself?"

"Why?" the Death Eater replied with a smooth Scottish accent. "This isn't James Bond. I'm going to give you time to look for an escape."

With that, he raised his wand, ready to blast some curse.

Right then, a _POP_ sounded in the room. A blond man apparated in.

"What is it, Malfoy?" demanded the red-head, annoyed by the intrusion.

"I have a message from the Dark Lord, sir," said Malfoy, fidgeting his robe pockets.

"Well, spit it out," ordered the senior Death Eater.

Malfoy whipped out his wand rapidly.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Despite the speed, and the surprise of the Death Eater, the red-head apparated, with no pop sound, out before the spell reached him.

At once, the webbing disappeared. Malfoy did not waste his time.

"Quick!" he hissed. "He'll come back. Apparate to the Hog's Head, Hogsmeade. Now!"

They didn't wait, and apparated, along with the injured wizards with them.

Malfoy disguised himself and sat with Ron and Kingsley in the Head. The rest of the Order went back to Hogwarts.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What's going on Malfoy?" asked Kingsley.

"It's a trap," spat Ron, while applying a bandage to his arm.

"Quite an elaborate one," snarled Malfoy. "Trying to Avada Kedavra Polanar."

Kingsley sat up straight. Ron didn't understand.

"That was Polanar?" he whispered. "I thought he was a myth."

"Nope," said Malfoy. "He's real."

"I thought he'd be older," said Kingsley. "The number of things he's been reputed to have done."

"Nope. Looks about 25, doesn't he?"

"Who's Polanar?" asked Ron, feeling left out.

"Reports have come that Voldemort has a wizard who's extremely powerful. Second only to him," replied Kingsley, sitting back, and wiping his eyes. He suddenly looked very old.

"A second-in-command?"

Malfoy snorted.

"Voldemort has no second-in-commands," said Kingsley. "That would imply he considers his own demise."

"Plus, he doesn't trust any of the Death Eaters from mutinying," added Malfoy. "That's like saying he's made friends. No, the Dark Lord trusts no-one, no matter what many Death Eaters will tell you."

"So what do we do with you?" asked Kingsley.

"Let's turn him over," snarled Ron. "He killed Dumbledore."

"I did not!" spat Malfoy.

"You were the direct cause of his death," said Kingsley. He raised his hand, silencing Malfoy's coming protestations.

"However," he continued, "You did save our lives. So I think we'll spare you and leave it at that. May your days be peaceful."

With that, Kingsley got up.

"What!" gasped Malfoy. "You're leaving me?"

"What do you want from us?"

"Asylum," said Malfoy. "With my betrayal, Polanar will come to kill me. He will succeed if you don't help me."

"Oh well, best of luck," said Ron, getting up as well. He stopped at Kingsley look.

"Dumbledore would've helped him," he said.

"Says who?" said Ron.

"He helped Snape."

"And look where that got him. You just proved why we should leave him."

"We can't, Ron."

"Why?"

"He saved our lives. We owe him."

"We owe him nothing," fumed Ron. "As far as I'm concerned, he hasn't even evened out Dumbledore's death."

"Dumbledore would've helped him."

Ron's shoulders deflated.

"Okay," he said. "But the ferret's got to go through our rules. I'm not going to be killed in my sleep."

Kingsley looked at Malfoy.

"Anything," he stammered. "Just get me away from _him_."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"That's it?" Harry asked in disbelief. "After all the years of him giving us hell, you opened your arms out wide."

He got angry. How dare they? He got up, and paced the room. Didn't Dumbledore mean more to them? _How dare they?_

He'd have killed Malfoy. No questions there. But they welcomed him! He didn't see the room get dark, a display of his anger.

"Er… Harry?" asked Hermione tentatively.

"Yes?"

"The light's gone out."

"So?" dismissed Harry. "Switch it on."

"It's run by magic, not electricity."

Oh. He hadn't lost his control like this for quite some time. He set his magic back down. The lights brightened.

"Ron, he's getting that angry look again," Malfoy said, worried.

"He was furious when he came back from Europe, and he came around," said Ron. "The same will happen again."

"I doubt it," replied Harry.

"Anyways," said Hermione. "While Draco-bashing's should be an Olympic sport, I realized something. What happened to Polanar?"

They looked at Harry.

"What? How am I supposed to know? Never seen him before in my life."

"I forgot," said Hermione. "You've forgotten your memories."

"No, I've lost my memories," corrected Harry.

"After Voldemort's demise, you took it upon yourself to find every Death Eater. Before you... changed, you knew what happened to almost every Death Eater."

"You became a walking library," scoffed Ron.

"That's a compliment, Ron, as far as I'm concerned," said Hermione.

"Only you, Hermione, only you."

"Polanar seems to have vanished," said Malfoy.

"Is he dead?" asked Ron.

"There have been no reports," said Malfoy. "Believe me I've checked. He must be alive. I won't believe otherwise, unless I see his cold, dead body."

"Which means," said Ron, "he's going to cause havoc in the mess we're in."

"Why haven't we done anything about this?" asked Harry.

"You refused," Hermione explained.

"Why?"

"Said you were tired."

"You're kidding me!"

"Nope," said Ron. "You said you've done enough for a lifetime, and that others should do their part. 'The wizarding world can't always look to me.' You were fond of saying that."

"That sounds rude," Harry frowned.

"Look," Malfoy said, "you were tired of having the dual role of wizarding hero and scapegoat. They slammed you when you sacrificed everything."

"Plus," said Ron, "you pointed out that they put themselves in this position by embracing the government. Only they could get themselves out. Something about you not having the power to make others see the truth."

"Dumbledore said that," said Hermione.

"What about you guys?" Harry asked. "Are you opposing? Is anyone opposing for that matter."

Harry noticed Hermione looked away at that question. Interesting.

"Nope," said Malfoy

"Not me," said Ron. "But Kingsley's trying to do something. He's the deputy head of Magical Law Enforcement. He's getting obvious, though. Talks about resisting openly to other Ministry officials. Quite risky. He'll disappear very soon if he keeps up."

"Tell him to lay low," Harry said. "I'll look for help."

"Wait," said Ron, smiling, "Was that a request, or an Order?"

Six months before the end of the war, Harry became the leader of the Order. He'd dealt with all the Horcruxes. The not-so-simple job of actually killing Voldemort remained. As he had more information on the war than the other members, he was given no choice but to lead.

"Whatever he wishes to take it as," Harry replied.

"Does this mean you're going to get into this?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

"Why?" asked Malfoy.

"As one exceptional witch once said," explained Harry, "I have this hero thing."

Hermione blushed.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Maybe I don't want to be a professor," Harry said, annoyed.

"Look," said Hermione, just as annoyed, "you said you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. Quitting your job on the first day of classes would defeat the purpose."

They were seated in the Great Hall, waiting for the kids to come, and for the gamekeeper, Matthew, to get the first years. (Hagrid died during the war). Malfoy was seated in a respectful distance, talking to the other professors animatedly. Ron had gone back to the Ministry.

"I did not choose this," Harry fumed. "I want to play Quidditch."

"But you chose to keep the identity for a time. And Quidditch! What a waste of a wizard with your potential."

"Anyways," Harry remarked, "why do I have to give a speech?

"You're the deputy headmaster."

"I bet there's a great story as to how I got cornered with that," was Harry's only comment.

"Nope," said Hermione. "You were the only thing stopping the Ministry from appointing one of their own to that position. You're that popular."

"But only professor can be deputy headmaster."

"They can change that."

"Sounds too much like Educational Decrees to me. Who's the Minister again? Umbridge's brother? What does he say? _Hom-Hom_?"

Hermione covered her mouth, but her giggles still came out. McGonagall looked at her in puzzlement.

"Why doesn't McGonagall give the speech?" Harry persisted. "Dumbledore did."

"She does. You just add to it."

"What did I say last year?"

"It was your first time. Something about doing the right thing."

"I'll just say something Dumbledore said in the past."

"That's smart," said Hermione brightly.

The 2nd to 7th years came in, and Harry curiously became silent. He stiffened.

The hallway was noisy, returning Harry to his memories. He half-wished he could be sitting at the Gryffindor table, between his best friends again. At least he was beside one of them.

The sorting hat sang its annual song, and the sorting began. Hermione was puzzled by Harry only looking at the four tables, and not at the sorting. Afterwards, when they were eating, she decided to find out what was bothering him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she said.

"What?" said Harry distracted. He was still staring at the students. His plate was untouched.

Hermione kicked him under the table to get his attention.

"I said, is there something wrong?"

"No… nothing at all."

"Harry Potter," Hermione said, angry. "Something's bothering you. Why won't you tell me?"

Harry didn't look at her when he answered.

"It's not something we talk about," he mumbled. "Ron would understand."

"Are you saying Ron's a better friend?" Hermione hissed.

"No, no, no," Harry corrected quickly. "I said you wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Okay," Harry took a breath. "It's the girls. They're so bloody attractive."

"Who? What girls?" asked Hermione as she looked around. Then the answer dawned on her. "Noooo, not the students. What sort of sick person are you?"

"It's only the sixth and seventh years."

"Oh, that makes it normal, then," Hermione sarcastically replied. "Harry, you're a teacher. Worse, you're _twenty-five_!"

"Not in here," replied Harry, tapping his head. "I'm only nineteen."

"Oh, I forgot." Hermione deflated. "But it can't go on, you know."

"Of course it can't," said Harry, in a 'what are you thinking?' voice. "Besides, have I dated much?"

"Not really. You said you never met the right person."

"I never got back with Ginny?" Harry asked in shock.

"No," said Hermione. "You met new people and so did she."

"I thought you said I didn't date much."

"I meant you both changed. You're not the same two people you were as kids. Well, she's not at least. If you want, get to know her, and maybe something will come up now."

"Maybe."

McGonagall got up, and all talk in the hall ended. Harry didn't listen to her talk about rules, instead trying to come up with something to say.

When the headmistress finished, Harry had decided to mix up some of his favourite Dumbledore talks. He got up.

"Times have become difficult," he said, looking at the students without a smile. "We have the choice between what's right and what's easy. We must choose the former, regardless of what may arise. To make it work, we must unite. Petty differences such as different Houses or types of blood must never allow us to become prejudiced, or worse, enemies. We are as strong as we are united, and useless divided."

He paused, and then his lips curled. "The greatest wizard I ever knew said many wise things. The wisest I shall repeat to you now. Keep it in mind for the rest of your lives."

The students, and most of the staff leaned forwards, interested in hearing what Voldemort's vanquisher would find so great.

_"**Nitwit**! **Blubber**! Oddment! Tweak!"_

The hall was silent. McGonagall was the only person making a sound, chuckling heartily. Even Hermione gave Harry a weird look.

McGonagall was still laughing when she told the students to go to their dorms.

* * *

A/N: You might have noticed something wrong in this chapter. Don't worry, it's deliberate. 


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: I edited it a bit.

First reviewer of the story's pointed out that the killing curse isn't Latin. To be honest, I admit ignorance. Just thought it sounded good. Thanks for the review, though.

Please review. I don't know how people are taking it. I'm writing the story as I post, so I'm open to suggestions to how the story's structured.

**

* * *

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Chapter 4  
Classes

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry was behind his desk, standing in front of the Gryffindor/Slytherin fifth years. He didn't remember sharing the Defence classes when he was a student, but there were fewer fifth years in the two houses, so sharing would've been smarter.

"In this class, you will learn how to defend yourselves. Defend from spells, curses, enchantments, incantations, potions and so much more."

"The difference from the first five being…?" asked a Gryffindor girl.

"If you don't know a difference, doesn't mean there isn't.

"Some people may feel that after the fall of the Dark Lord, this class has lost some of its value. Allow me to stress the contrary."

He looked at all the students hard. "As long as there are people, there will be conflict. You will _always_ need to be able to defend yourselves."

"Turn to page 59," he said. The students obeyed.

"Sir," one Slytherin student said, "what's the need to study Dementors?"

"Have you ever met one?"

"No."

"Has anyone met one?"

The class all shook their heads.

"I met my first when I was a third year." The class gasped. "I had to defend myself and someone I loved from a group of them at the end of my year."

"They weren't going to…" someone whispered.

"Suck his soul?" Harry said. "Yes they were."

"What did you do?"

"I used the spell you read before you at them, and they left."

"What?" laughed a derisive Slytherin. "Are you telling us that you knew the Patronus at the age of thirteen, and you also used it at a pack of them?"

"Name?" Harry asked.

"Armauq Kilcourd."

"Are you saying I'm lying, Armauq?"

"No sir," stuttered the boy, frightened.

"But you were implying it." He went on, like the interruption hadn't occurred.

"Does anyone know the effects of a dementor?"

A few hands came up. He pointed at a Slytherin girl.

"They suck out your happiness," she promptly answered.

"And?"

"And they make you relive your worst memories, sir" a Slytherin said.

"What's so bad about that?" scoffed a Gryffindor boy.

Harry smiled. A very small part of him wanted someone to think that.

"You think that's not bad?" he asked.

"No," the boy said. "Just ignore it and stick to matter at hand. Winning the fight."

"Tell me," said Harry softly, "have you ever experienced a fierce fight?"

The boy shook his head.

"Have you ever met a dementor… what's your name?"

"Paul, Paul Tyner. And no sir."

"So what gave you the impression that it's easy to just ignore the dementors' effects?" Harry asked. "You're a muggle-born. Are you muggle-raised?"

"Yes. How did you know I'm a muggle-born?"

"I have many talents," Harry dismissed. "Please come here to the head of the class."

The boy did, while displaying his confusion.

"I know of a spell, developed in Italy," Harry said, "that can mimic a Dementor's effect. Wanna try?"

The boy wanted to go back to his seat. But the looks the rest of the Gryffindors gave him told him he would be considered a coward if he backed down now, after throwing a fuss.

"Okay sir," he acquiesced. "But I'm under no danger, right?"

"Not one bit," Harry assured. "I swear all you will experience will be in your mind. I will also perform a simple spell that will show you a dementor, too. Don't worry, it is an illusion."

Harry tried to hide his smile. All he was going to do was conjure a black cloak and then levitate it. But it sounded better the way he said it.

He raised his wand, and conjured the black cloak. He spelled the part that covered the face to be dark, as if one couldn't see a face there.

"That's it?" asked Paul, relieved. The class looked at him in awe.

"Not even close," Harry said. "I didn't even perform the spell, yet."

While the class laughed, Harry did the spell. It was a simple spell, and any wizard worth his/her salt could easily dismiss it. But it wasn't made for fighting, but for research. They tested to see how long Law Enforcement officers could withstand the horrors, or mentallyavoid it. They even tried to develop spells to make wizards immune to them.

Suddenly Paul's demeanor changed. His eyes widened and he shook. A couple of seconds later he screamed. He fell to the ground and shook violently.

Harry quickly cancelled the spell. He kneeled beside the boy.

"Paul!" he yelled. "Paul, it's okay. You're fine."

"Make it stop," the boy sobbed. Harry hugged him, whispering in his ears.

"It's over. I'm sorry. I should've checked. I should've checked."

Harry conjured a chocolate bar.

"Eat," he offered.

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat," Harry ordered.

The boy complied. For a few minutes, Harry watched him, forgetting there was a class with them.

"Sir?" someone said, reminding him of his location. He quickly got up.

"I must apologise," Harry said in remorse.

"Why?"

"Dementors bring up your worst memories," Harry explained. "What's a consequence to that?"

A Slytherin girl answered, "People will be affected differently."

"Exactly, five points to Slytherin," Harry said. "Depending on what your worst memories are, they will affect you differently. Make no mistake however; should a dementor stand right in front of you, with the intention of sucking you, you'll be on the floor, regardless of how delightful your memories are."

"How are you feeling, Paul?"

"Better," he replied.

"As you're a muggle-born, I expect you've heard about the Newcastle massacre?"

Paul paled. "That was because of Dementors?" he whispered.

"Unfortunately, yes. Most were sucked out, leaving them soul-less." He turned to the class. "Muggles were told that they were left mad due to a trauma from an attack by thugs and gangs, but that wasn't true."

"Two of your friends will escort you to Madame Pomfrey."

"It's not needed sir."

"I say it is," Harry said kindly.

When thethree kids left the class, Harry continued the lesson.

"What could Paul see that could've affected him so badly?" asked a Gryffindor.

"I don't know," remarked Harry. "And if you don't, it's because he doesn't want you to. I will not hear anyone is badgering him.

"I will, however, tell you why I was affected in a similar manner by dementors in my third year. I'm sure you all aware of the events of my childhood?"

They all nodded affirmatively.

He continued. "When I was in my third year, and dementors came near me, I would hear the screams of a woman."

"Who?"

"My mother. She was begging Voldemort not to kill me, but to take her instead."

The looks of horror from the kids told Harry that it would be better to get back to class.

"Anyways…" he said before getting interrupted by a Gryffindor, who asked what the class wanted to know.

"What do you hear now?"

"It's a bunch of memories, different almost every time," Harry said quietly. "War does that to those who are unfortunate to experience it.

Back to the lesson at hand," he said, cheerily. "As I've caused three of your colleagues to miss the class, I'll teach you the spell next lesson. You're all dismissed."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Welcome to Advanced Defence of the Dark Arts," Harry said at the end of the day. He couldn't muster much enthusiasm after saying it a bunch of times before. It didn't matter; he wanted his seventh year class to be serious. No jokes here. He had only a year to teach them what he could.

The students who selected this course from all the houses came together for this class once they were in their last year. As there were so many students, Harry had taught at a different room, a much larger room.

"Can you all hear me?" he asked. They nodded. "Excellent."

"This class will not be easy," he warned. "I will demand a lot from you. I have one year to teach you as many spells to survive. As such, I will not abide by the N.E.W.T. syllabus."

"Sir," called a student over the uproar. "We'll fail if you don't."

"Settle down, settle down," Harry chuckled. "I didn't say I wouldn't teach you the syllabus, just that I won't be restricted by it. I'm going to teach you a lot more spells, and tactics, that the N.E.W.T.s will require. Stick with me, and the exam will be too easy."

"What's the point of teaching us so much?" asked a student.

Harry rubbed his head. He was asked this in all his classes.

"There will always be dark wizards and enemies. A wizard, or witch, who refuses to know how to defend oneself, is begging for death."

It seemed that the class wasn't impressed. Harry got angry. He could tolerate the lower classes not understanding, he had time to change that. The seventh years only had a year.

"Very well," he said to the skeptical faces. "Who are the ten best duelers here?"

Half the students raised their hands.

"… to duel with me," Harry continued.

All the hands went down. Harry laughed.

"Ten wizard or witches will duel with me _at the same time_. Come one, ten against one. Use whatever spells you wish. Except the unforgivables, and extremely dark curses, of course. Come on, who're the best? Twenty-five points will go to the houses of each student if I lose."

The four houses started to urge their choices of the better duelers. In the end, 3 Hufflepuffs, 3 Ravenclaws, 2 Slytherins, and 2 Gryffindors got up.

"Talk amongst yourselves about some sort of strategy," he offered. "You have five minutes."

While they huddled together, he turned back to the class.

"Dueling can either be a sport or a fight. I will take it to be a sport now. They will, of course, take it to be a fight."

"Are you done?" he asked after the five minutes were up.

"Yes," one of them, a dark-skinned Hufflepuff, said.

Harry waved his wand, and the seats near the stage vanished, and the stage increased in size. He waved it again in intricate patterns, and a blue barrier appeared around them, covering the whole stage the teacher usually stood on.

"For protection of the other students from stray curses," he explained.

"Shall we begin?" The duelers nodded. Harry bowed, which they returned.

And then Harry waited. He leaned on the wall lazily. The ten opponents looked at one another, wondering who to act first. The professor clearly wasn't.

"Let's all send a curse at the same time," said a Slytherin. "On three. One… two… three…"

They all yelled. Right then, Harry moved.

The spells all hit where he was, and he was already 3 steps ahead. Spells flew towards him, but he dodged and spun, and the spells couldn't hit him.

"Impedimenta!" yelled a Ravenclaw. The spell brushed aside him, as he spun.

Harry moved with amazing speed, but didn't throw any spells at them. The opponents grouped together, according to the house, and sent spells simultaneously. They still had no effect. Even the ones he didn't dodge were blocked easily.

Harry jumped, too high for a normal man. When he reached the peak of his jump, two spells left his wand, hitting two of the Ravenclaws, who fell to the ground, and did not get up.

Harry ran towards the two Gryffindors very quickly. They sent as many spells as he could. He leaned to his left or right to dodge them, but somehow kept his top speed. When he reached them, he quickly slapped both their heads with the wand, waving it like a conductor's baton. They were unconscious before they hit the ground.

Taking advantage of the shocked looks he was given, two spells were sent and hit two of the Hufflepuffs, removing them from the proceedings.

He jumped on the walls, stayed there for a moment, and jumped off, conjuring ropes to wrap around the remaining Ravenclaw and one of the Slytherins. He quickly stunned them.

That left one Slytherin and the dark-skinned Hufflepuff.

Harry animated the rug on the ground with an enchantment, and sent it to attack the Hufflepuff.

The Hufflepuff suitably distracted, he threw his wand at the Slytherin, and promptly ran at him. The Slytherin's eyes never left the wand, despite knowing Harry's approach. The Slytherin reached up to get the wand and… his Defence professor punched him.

The Slytherin fell to the ground, Harry's wand in his hand. Harry retrieved his wand, before getting blasted off his feet.

The Hufflepuff got rid of the rug, and sent a spell at Harry. Impressive, Harry thought. He was sure it would've taken the student longer to deal with it. He saw the rug in flames.

He stood before the Hufflepuff, waiting for the student to strike first. The Hufflepuff sent a surprisingly weak spell at him. Just when he was about to block it, he noticed what was behind him.

Harry jumped to his side, avoiding a spell that struck where he had stood. The funny thing was the spell came from behind. Harry smiled.

He turned to the student, who looked disappointed his plan didn't work. He had to finish the duel now. He was starting to get tired.

Harry let the spells out in droves. He threw curse after curse, overwhelming the Hufflepuff. One disarming curse was enough to extract the student's wand.

He revived the fallen students and removed the barrier. A crescendo of applause was heard once the barrier was removed.

"That was bloody brilliant," a young man screamed.

Harry waited for the class to settle down, and the duelers to return to their places, before speaking again. He set the class back to normal then. Many of the curses left burn marks, and the teacher's table was in pieces.

"Fifteen points to every dueler, and twenty extrapoints to the last Hufflepuff dueler standing."

"Why?" he asked. "I couldn't beat you, and you're giving me thirty five points?"

"You tricked me," Harry explained. "Forgive me from sounding arrogant, but that's rare. What's your name?"

"Nathaniel Zabini."

"Zabini? Are you Blaise's brother?"

"Yes," he asked, confused.

"I was in the same year as him," Harry said. "Let me applaud your use of the lasso enchantment. An amazing method. You made the spell while I was dealing with the Slytherin, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Ingenious. You performed the spell, and then held it behind me. You distract me with a simple spell, ensuring I'd block and not dodge. While I block, all it took was a tug of the wand to get the spell to come to me."

"While this tactic is used in many duels," Harry explained to the class, "I've never seen a student do it."

He turned to the class."There's much to take from this duel," he said. "What's the first? Yes," he pointed at a Ravenclaw witch.

"You were showing off." Her friends tried to shush her, thinking she was stupid for insulting the professor.

"That's true," Harry said. "What was the worst?"

"I don't know. You jumped on the wall, when just throwing a curse would've been effective. You _hit_ two of the duellers with the wand when throwing a curse is easier. You risked them getting you when you ran at them. I think the worst was when you _threw_ your wand and punched the dueller. What if the opponent just killed you while you ran? Not everyone would look at the wand."

"Ten points to Ravenclaw for each example," Harry awarded. "You're right. I explained that I was going to take this duel as a sport. Doing these moves in a real fight could get you killed. I've seen it happen. On the other hand, some of these moves can be the difference between victory and defeat."

"How do you know when to do it?" asked a Slytherin witch, who participated in the duel.

"You never really do," Harry said. "Dueling at it's most advanced is just instinct and reflex. You must trust yourself and your abilities. You must already know curses and counter-curse, tactics and moves. You must be willing to perform something at the blink of an eye, because only then would it be most effective.

"Also, you must be aware that wizards all duel differently. What works against me probably wouldn't work against Voldemort."

"What mistake did you make with Voldemort?" someone asked.

"You saw all that jumping on the walls?" they all nodded. "That has saved my life countless times with Death Eaters. Works like a charm, especially if there is a group of them. I once used it on Voldemort, and it was a horrifying mistake. I felt the pain of that duel for many, many months. I never thought of using it with him again."

He finished the lesson. "That duel, while enjoyable to watch, shows how a dueler can befuddle his opponents. You will have enemies and if you can't defend yourselves, the stunners I used in the end could be the killing curse.

If you are going to lose, let it be because your opponent was great, and not because you were pathetic. Too many wizards and witches died needlessly during the war against Voldemort because they couldn't defend themselves. Class dismissed."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

During dinner, there was a buzz in the Great Hall. When Harry entered, some students cheered, while the rest laughed.

Harry shook his head, a smile on his face. When he reached the table, he met a frowning Hermione.

"Something up?"

"Yes," she said. "Three of my classes, each having had a class with you before, asked for presentations. I asked why, and they all said you gave them one."

"Yeah, Potter," said Malfoy, laughing. "Now I've gotten students saying they wish Charms was as fun as Defence. I swear, the guys are praising you to Merlin levels, and many of the girls have crushes on you."

"Sixth and seventh year crushes?" Harry asked hopefully. "Ouch!" he exclaimed when Hermione kicked his shin under the table.

Malfoy just laughed harder.

* * *

A/N: I hope you don't feel I made Harry a super-powered wizard. He's defeated Voldemort alone. I feel beating 10 students isn't too fanciful. Please review. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

I called this Chapter 6 as a mistake. Changed it now.

A/N: In this chapter a real person (or people) is used in an entirely fictional setting. No libel is intended. More science (Something I'm more familiar with) and politics, too. Hope I didn't get too technical, or wrong.

Thanks to the three reviewers. Appreciate it. The rest of you, drop in a word, will you? Thanks.

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* * *

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Chapter 5  
Muggle Delight

"I want to show you something," Hermione said.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You'll see."

Harry followed her, curious. She took him down a flight of stairs and reached a wall. She looked around, making sure they weren't followed.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry laughed. "Are you hiding nuclear secrets?"

"Just get in," said Hermione annoyed.

"In what?" asked Harry. "A wall? Blimey, Hermione, you're tired from teaching already?"

"Oh, sorry." She waved her wand, saying, "_I'm in love with nonsense._"

Harry laughed. He was clutching his stomach as the wall opened. Really! That had to be the stupidest password _ever_.

"A secret room, Hermione? Are you propositioning me?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

She slapped his arm, laughing. She took him down a staircase that was behind the wall.

"Seriously," she said. "Is that all you think about?"

"That," acknowledged Harry, "and Quidditch."

"Honestly!"

"So, what's this place?"

"You know the Ministry's banned muggle goods in wizarding homes?"

"You told me that."

"Well there were a few things I couldn't let go."

They reached a door. Hermione opened it, and walked in. Harry followed her, and stopped at the door.

"A few?" he asked sardonically.

They entered a massive hallway, for lack of a better word. It was divided into many rooms, but Harry could see its enormity by looking at the ceiling, which loomed very high above the rooms. What shocked him was that the place was full of objects.

"Hermione," he said in wonder. "Did you apparate a hypermarket in here?"

The place was lined with muggle objects. There were rows upon rows of books, video cassettes, music records, cassettes and CDs, toys, and so much more.

"Okay I got carried away," she replied, laughing. "I wanted to have a few things, a TV, books so on, but I just kept on buying. The dratted Ministry bans just encouraged me."

"What's this?" He held up a cover of some book, that didn't seem to have pages.

"That's a DVD," Hermione frowned. "You didn't lose your memory of the muggle world?"

"No," Harry said. "I've never seen this VDD before."

"It's DVD. It's like what CD is to cassette in music, for movies."

"It's a movie CD?" Harry looked at the DVD in wonder.

"Yes, with better technology."

Harry looked around, picking up a few things and putting them back down. Hermione pulled his arm.

"There's something I want to show you," she said with excitement.

They went past a few rooms and shelves, with Harry still gawking around, and then stopped at a room.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Harry stared in shock. She converted a couple of rooms into an apartment. There was a kitchen, a bathroom, and a large living room. In the living room, standing in all its glory was…

"That's got to be the largest television I've _ever_ seen," he gasped.

It was massive, with large speakers on the side. There were even speakers on the ground surrounding it.

"Why is that Playstation black?" he asked, remembering Dudley's old white Playstation.

"That's because it's a Playstation 2."

Harry's eyes widened. "There's a 2?"

"Yep, and I bought some competitor videogames as well," she said. "There's a shelf full of games beside the movie shelf."

"I love you," Harry said. "I really do. Here is my reward for vanquishing Voldemort. This!" he raised his arms and spun around. Hermione giggled.

"Okay," she said. "What do we do first?"

"What did I like doing before?" Hermione became silent. "Hermione? Did you hear me?"

"You never knew about this," she said softly, looking down at her feet.

"What?" Harry laughed. "Why not?"

"I never told you."

"Why?"

"Because…"

"You didn't trust me," Harry said. He took her silence as an affirmative.

"I'm sorry Harry," she stammered. "It's a severe crime, and you didn't want to oppose the Ministry."

"But you told Ron," he said, hurt. She shook her head. "You didn't? Why?"

"He works for them," she said as if it were obvious. "If I didn't tell you, I sure as hell couldn't tell him."

"You're a weird witch, Hermione Granger," Harry said. "That or this world is a weird place. Why did you tell me now?"

"You said you were going to oppose the Ministry."

"No, I didn't. I told Kingsley to lay low. I said I'll deal with the situation."

"You aren't?" she asked in horror.

"I didn't say that either," Harry said, smiling. She gave a slight smile, and threw a cushion from the couch at him.

"You…you… you…"

"Me…me…me…what?"

"Argh!"

"So," Harry said, hopping on the couch. "What do we do first?"

"There's this movie I think you'll like," she said, and left the room.

She returned with a DVD case. Harry took the case, while she placed the DVD into the player.

"How does electricity work here anyways?" he asked.

"Magic," she replied simply. "I also connected the television to satellite channels. European, mainly, for now. I'm still trying to figure out a way to get the American channels."

"What's this about Rings? And who's the Lord of them?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione laughed.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

"That was bloody brilliant!" Harry exclaimed.

"I know," Hermione said. "It's amazing. Was I imagining it, or were you sniffling?"

"I was not," he said defensively.

"You're lying, Harry," she laughed, wagging her finger at him. "What was it?"

"The deaths were shocking. Is the story finished? 'cause the ring's still around."

"Nope, there are still two more parts."

"Great! Did they come out?" she nodded her head. "Why don't you have them?"

"Who said I haven't?"

"What are you waiting for woman? Let's watch it."

"Its 2 am Harry. We have classes in the morning. We'll watch it another night."

"Okay, mother."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

With that, Hermione and Harry spent a lot of their time in the muggle room, as they called it affectionately. They watched movies and played games. Well, Harry played a lot of the games. She even introduced him to computers and the Internet.

"Why does the Ministry want to stop us from this?" he mentioned in wonder.

"Power, I think," said Hermione. "Those fools want to stop us from identifying with muggles. We fear and hate those we don't know far more easily than those we do."

"Wizards knew very little about muggles to start with."

"They probably don't want to risk it. We are still close to war. More importantly, however, is that many wizarding nations around the world have websites, telling the news the Ministry wishes to hide from us, so they can feed us their sanitized version."

"Idiots."

"Seconded."

"How did you get the computer connected to the internet?"

"A friend of mine helped me with that."

"So you did tell someone about this?"

"He helped me buy it."

"He? Is there something you have to tell me?"

"It was Malfoy."

"What?" Harry cried out. "You told him about this? And not tell me?"

"Settle down," Hermione said. "He followed me. I had no choice."

"At least the ferret's shown he's trustworthy."

"He's saved Ron and my lives plenty of times, and we've repaid the favor. He's already shown that."

"How does he know how to put up the Internet? Heck, does he know what a computer is?"

"Nope, but he has contacts with the Unspeakables and he got one to give him information on muggle technology working with magic. And, more importantly, how to preventing Hogwarts from causing the electronics from going haywire."

"That's nice of him."

"Don't say that. He wanted _quid pro quo_. "

"And in return…?"

"He wanted to be able to use anything I had. Including the computer."

"I wonder what he looked at on the computer."

"I know." She typed the keyboard. "Here's the history of the web browser. It'll show where he's been. He loves the muggle news and international wizarding news."

"I thought he'd be a part of 'International Blond Ferrets' or something," Harry said.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry had to plan his lessons carefully. There were a few things that he wasn't allowed to teach. They started this control of lessons a year ago. He could easily go around them. All he had to do was teach alternative spells, as they had one at least.

This puzzled Harry. What was the point of banning curses that a teacher could easily go around?

"They're testing the waters," McGonagall explained when he asked her in the Great Hall during breakfast. "The Ministry is seeing the reaction of the people. You don't assume complete control of a nation in one day. It takes time, and the smart ones know it. First, they let the people demand the restrictions, and then they extend it."

"Then perhaps we should end this before it gets too late."

"Perhaps we should."

"What about you Malfoy? Any problems with the restrictions?"

"Not yet," Malfoy replied, "but in a couple of years, I'm expecting some."

The owls came in then. A flurry of feathers and squawking beast roamed the air above the tables, trying to find their owners at the tables.

A simple grey owl flew towards Harry. He took the letter from it. He looked at the envelope, which had a seal he never saw before. He shrugged and opened the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_By order of the Monarchy, you have been requested to appear before Her Majesty the Queen. The reason of the visit will be apparent when you arrive. Secrecy of this meeting is of paramount importance. Do not tell anyone of this. Destroy this letter immediately. _

You are expected on September 25th at 9pm, promptly. Instructions on how to enter are on the next page.

Do not keep Her Majesty waiting.

_  
Sincerely,  
Her Majesty's Magical Representative_

The Queen _knew_ about the wizarding world? He thought. Not only that, a representative! And why would she want to see him? Probably something to do with Voldemort. He was after all, the Boy Who Lived.

"What's the letter about?" asked Hermione, buttering her toast.

"What? Oh, nothing," waved Harry. "Just some parent asking a student's progress in my class."

"That's sweet," Hermione approved. "Taking note of the child's learning."

"No," disagreed Malfoy. "That's annoying. I'd love to throttle some parents. Their child's failing and they blame me! It might've been my fault if the stupid git weren't failing all their classes."

"I'm guessing you're thinking of one student in particular," Harry said.

"Yep," Malfoy said. "Be grateful that idiot's graduated last year. I've never seen people as stupid as his parents."

"Malfoy, be nice!" Hermione chastised.

"So you're telling me they were right in calling you a stupid witch with a more impressive bosom than head?"

"No, they were idiots."

"Then we are in concurrence, it seems."

"As wonderful as talking about Hermione's cleavage is," Harry said, who then got slapped by Hermione, "I have to go to class."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"My, you look impressive," Hermione remarked at Harry's door. "Who's the lucky woman?"

"Thank you," Harry said. "I always said you had good taste." He was wearing a muggle jacket, shirt and trousers. He'd be respectable for the queen, but this wasn't even a high enough occasion to wear a suit. Harry decided he wouldn't wear a suit, or tuxedo for that matter, even when he got married. Then again, he could marry a witch, and that wouldn't be an issue.

"You're avoiding the question."

"No, I ignored it."

"That special?" Hermione said, intrigued. "Come one, tell me. Who's she?"

"It isn't a date," Harry replied. "Though I wish it were. I'm meeting someone important and have to present myself well. I can't tell you, before you ask."

"Can I at least help you change?" Hermione asked.

"I'm done anyways. But thanks for the offer. Maybe when I come back?"

"Disgusting man."

"Boy Who Lived," replied Harry. "Most women would throw themselves at me after hearing that."

"I'm not most women."

"I noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked, looking angry but for the twinkle in her eye.

"Look at the time! I have to go. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," offered Hermione, not knowing what it was for.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry apparated into the palace as he was told to. A young man, immaculately dressed, awaited his entrance.

"Right on time, Mr. Potter" he said looking at his watch. "Excellent."

"Where's Her Majesty?" Harry asked.

"This is where we accept wizards. Not that we've gotten much recently. If you'll follow me…"

Harry trailed him, and asked questions.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Queen's Representative to the magical community."

"How does the Queen know of our existence?"

The man looked at him confused.

"The monarchy has known for centuries. The magical population fell under the monarchy's rule when King William from Normandy took over England. He offered that or death. The wizards had no choice. He had Norman wizards helping him."

"They never covered that in History for us."

"Probably ashamed they were beaten by muggles."

"Any wizards or witches from the monarchy?"

"There have been many over history. But no," seeing Harry's question in his eyes, "never has a king or queen been a wizard or witch. The first-borns that were magical were not chosen. History gives other reasons why. One actually became king, but was forced to abdicate quickly once found out. He tried to hide it from the family. We gave the world some excuse that he was romantically involved with someone unacceptable."

"You're kidding me," Harry said in awe.

"I assure you I am not. This was done so as to ensure that the ruler of the people was the same as the vast majority of the people.

"We've chosen not to meddle in the magical world when we decided not to meddle in the muggle one. Democracy does not allow the rule of a monarchy. It seems, however, times have changed, and a conflict between the Queen's subjects seems imminent."

"And why have you sent for me?"

"That was Her Majesty's decision. You will have to ask her."

They reached a large oak door, lined with magnificent carvings of wizards and muggles. It was obviously old, as the muggles lived in huts, and haven't worn such clothes for a long time. The magical people looked just as they did today, Harry noticed with humour.

The representative knocked on the door, and then opened it. He offered Harry to go first.

"Thank you," Harry said as he went in. He entered a lovely large room. It was lined with paintings, some moving, some not. And seated at one end was the…

"Your Majesty," said Harry as he kneeled.

The Queen laughed. "Kneeling, or bowing for that matter, is not expected."

Harry quickly got up, blushing.

"Please, have a seat," the Queen offered.

"Thank you," Harry said, and sat across her. He waited for her to talk.

"You may be wondering why you were summoned?"

"Yes."

"Times have changed. I have the magical and muggle worlds at each other's throats. They are my subjects, as such, this will not do."

"What do you ask of me? And why me?" Harry finished puzzled.

"Albus Dumbledore has told me many times of your greatness. This means you can be trusted. And you are the person who got rid of the wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort. This means you are capable of causing change."

"I am honoured to have gotten praise from Professor Dumbledore, but alas, I am only one man. I cannot go against the people."

"I will not ask you to," the Queen replied. "I need you to cause the effects that will make the people change."

"I will do my best."

"That's all you can give. Now, have you realized that the two governments have seemed to have settled down when being close to all-out war?"

"I'm sorry, your Majesty, but I must interrupt. There have been changes in my life that you must be aware of before you place trust in me."

With that, Harry told her everything about his time-travel. When he was done, the monarch looked shocked.

"Are you telling me that you've traveled the future?" He nodded. "And that you've just defeated Voldemort?" He nodded again. "Is this a problem, or a good thing?"

"Apparently, a good thing," Harry said. "The old me, before the change, refused to get into this conflict. I, on the other hand, disagree and want to offer as much help as possible."

"Excellent," the Queen replied happily. "It is great to hear that. And let me commend you that you are so willing to help your nation just after doing so much. Men like you are rare."

Harry blushed, and remained silent.

"Back to the matter," the Queen said. "I have received some highly distressing news, and had to warn the wizarding world. I needed to tell someone trustworthy, and yet powerful. You are the only one I knew of that fit both."

"What is it?"

"Have you heard of a spate of kidnappings of wizards and witches?"

"A little. But no-one's told me too much of them."

"A number of wizards and witches have been kidnapped. All were of lowly stature, criminals and the extreme poor. It seems that they were taken by the governments."

"Which ones?"

"Both the muggle and magical," answered the representative, who had sat beside Harry. He opened a black folder.

"We have received word from MI5 that a new muggle department has secretly been opened in the scientific branch of the government. One that deals with magic."

"How to manipulate it?" Harry asked, frightened of the answer.

"No," was the reply. "How to stop it."

"What?" Harry whispered.

"It seems that magic is a hereditary trait. Muggle geneticists have studied specimens, magical people, provided to them to see how the trait is passed down through generations. And more, if they can somehow silence it."

"Ridiculous!"

"Is it? You know of wizards coming from muggle families, and muggles coming from wizarding. You call the latter Squibs if I am not incorrect.

"While studies are preliminary, one on a form of RNA interference, and others that include many transgene insertions that removes the function of magic has been found."

"I'm sorry. Could you say it in a way someone who's never taken biology could understand?"

"My apologies. Traits in organisms can be silenced, which means to stop from occurring. While muggle geneticists are still very far away from actually modifying single traits, eye colour for example, of humans with perfection, the magical Ministry has provided them with magic to speed up the process of actually removing the magical phenotype. This means, they may be magical by blood, but they won't be able to cast spells."

"Why? Why would the magical ministry harm its own people?"

"The agreement they have together is for them to somehow stop the trait of magic for magically born muggles. This would, in effect make a separation between both worlds. If there are no children coming from the muggle world, over time, there would be no need for them to interact. They're already banned from inter-marriage."

"What's stopping the muggle government from using this as a cover to actually silence all wizards?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. It seems to us that that is they're intention all along."

"We return to the question again," said Harry. "Why would the magical ministry harm its own people?"

"I don't know. It may be that they're just buying time for some other plan they have."

"Perhaps."

"Harry," the Queen re-entered the conversation, "we cannot allow this to happen. You must somehow end this before it gets too far."

"Don't you have the power to stop this?"

"Technically, I do. I could remove both governments and appoint myself or my own government to lead. I cannot rule, this would be a severe breach of the trust of the people. I could appoint my own, but whom? The people wouldn't accept it unless I provide a more acceptable alternative. The present governments are already extremely popular.

"No," she concluded. "They must be destroyed from within. I must entrust you this. No-one else can be trusted from becoming dictators themselves."

"It's always me in the end, isn't it?" sighed Harry.

"Unfortunately, it seems to be the case. You will, however, get as much support as I can provide you in secret."

**

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A/N: Please review.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: Right, no more Muggle pop references. Got that out of my system. Back to the story at hand. More science, but as we're looking at it from Harry's perspective, it shouldn't get too confusing.

Note: The Queen's been used in this tale as a historical figure. She's not meant to be the real queen (_**obviously**_) but a figure of authority over both muggle and magical worlds.

**

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Chapter 6  
Her Majesty's Secret Wizard

Matthew Smith unlocked the front door of his home. Finally, he thought wearily, his day was over. The Home Office was working him to death. He had to ensure all the tests on the 'missing persons' were archived properly.

He closed the door behind him, and stretched his hand to switch on the lights. His hand brushed against the wall. What the hell...

"If you're looking for the switch," a voice said from the darkness in the living room, "you won't find it."

"Wha... who are you?" Matthew stammered.

"Who I am is of no consequence to you. What I want is."

"What do you want?"

"Information."

"On what?"

"The missing wizards and witches taken from your government."

"I don't know nothing about it. It would be a Ministry of Defence problem."

"You lie. It's precisely the fact that someone would believe it to be a Defence problem that it's being dealt by your department, Matty."

"Don't call me that. I don't like it," Matthew said.

"I know."

"Look," Matthew said, "let me switch on the lights so I could show you the papers."

"If you try to trick me again," said the voice, clearly threatening, "your wife, Nancy, and your kids, Amy and Charles, will come to the house from the school play tonight and find a very grizzly entrance. _Your_ bloody heap."

"What do you m-m-mean?"

"I am well aware of the cameras you have in your home. I know that there is a camera at the top-corner to my right."

"Won't they wonder why I haven't switched on the light for the past two minutes?"

"Oh!" said the voice, losing its dangerous tone. "I completely forgot." A pause, and Matthew heard a swishing sound. "There, the camera at your bedroom has now seen you kick off your shoes and jump straight to bed. A simple illusion."

"Yes," said Matthew vindictively. "There are sensors that detect magic here."

"Oh," said the voice. "Not a big problem. This means I have," it paused, "fourteen minutes and forty-five seconds to get the information out of you. You will tell me the truth, or you will die. Do I have to torture you to prove it?"

"No no no. That won't be necessary," Matthew gasped. "What do you want to know?"

"The addresses to where the wizards and witches are being held. All three locations."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The guards in the Reswaire Hospital were changing shifts. The night guards would come in as the day ones left, yawning after a long day. The hospital was under high security under strict orders of the government.

One of the night guards walked past a large oak, and promptly vanished behind it. His colleagues ahead of him didn't hear a sound.

The guard returned to the group entering the building, his clothes strangely disheveled.

"Names?" asked the sentry at the door.

"You know it's us, Paul," one of the group said. "Let us in, it's bloody freezing."

"Just performing the required procedure."

"Well, do it when we're inside!"

The door opened, and the group huddled inside.

"Excellent," said who seemed to be the head of the night watch. "You can leave now, Paul. Mark," he said to one of the group, "take his place."

The night watch were then assigned to their various posts, with the 'new' guy in charge of a corridor.

Harry looked around as they left him to do his job. This was a tough job. There were both magical and muggle sensors here and he'd be foolish to do anything rash. After getting the wizards and witches from the other two hide-outs that night, security here must have increased immensely.

First thing's first, he had to change his disguise. He didn't want the muggle he knocked out to be accused of committing the acts he'll soon do. He took out a vial, and promptly drank its contents. He gasped, that stuff tasted horrible even after all these years. It clearly wasn't an acquired taste.

Harry quickly discarded his clothes and set the portkey that he placed on it, so it could return back to the guard that was lying unconscious behind the tree.

There wasn't a discreet way to enter, the vast amounts of sensors made that impossible. He decided that if you can sneak around it, then blast through it.

He applied spells around his body. His teachers called them _improvements_. Pity he couldn't do them in duels. Any wizard worth his salt could dismiss them with simple spells.

"Hey," yelled someone behind him. "Just who the bloody hell are you?"

Harry attached his wand to his right wrist, with the head of the wand pointed towards the palm. He turned around. He raised his arms in a defeated posture.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I seem to be lost. Where exactly is the department for Research on Greek Chickens?"

"What?" was the stunned reply.

Harry grabbed the man's hand with his left hand. He slapped the man's head with his right arm, muttering a spell. The man fell down.

The alarms blared out. Sensors must have picked up on the spell. Damn, he wasn't supposed to be spotted immediately. Oh well, hiding the wand didn't work, he'd have to go it wizard-style.

He returned the wand to his palm and set out. He cast the invisibility spell on the wall to his end, and saw two of the guards rushing around the corner. He stopped, and just when they were about to pass, he sent two quick spells. They were knocked out before they even saw him.

Three down, twenty or thirty to go, thought Harry, until, he looked at his watch, ten minutes when back-up arrived, which would include the muggle military. He had to move faster.

He smiled, bent down and tapped both his shoes. And then ran as fast as he could.

Brilliant, it was just like playing Quidditch. The walls around him blurred, and he had to slow down a bit so he could actually see where he was going (and not slam into a wall).

He cast a couple of spells that made two illusions of himself appear. He then sent them away from his destination, with the illusions making as much noise as possible. That'll buy him some time.

He reached the research wing of the hospital. The door was locked with some keypad on the wall beside. He knew no magic that could unlock this. Although he had heard that some wizards knew.

Back to the task at hand. He raised his wand, took some steps back, and let loose with the destructive spells. The door held on until he used a variation of the spell Pettigrew used to frame Sirius. Then it fell back, unable to withstand all that.

He quickly sent two more illusions of himself inside, making them run in random directions, away from the cells. It meant that the two previous illusions vanished, as he was only capable of making two at a time.

He ran towards the cells, hearing the gunshots from the guards in this wing at the illusions. He reached a cell, and looked inside. He saw a group of wizards and witches of all ages inside. He broke the door down.

He looked around in disgust. The prisoners were extremely thin and looked mistreated. He'd kill whoever was responsible for this.

"Right," he said. "I'm here to get you out. There's," he counted them, "twelve of you here. Where are the other twelve?"

"Four are being tested right now," someone said (Was that a witch or a wizard? Harry couldn't tell).

"And the others?"

"Dead."

"Okay," Harry said. "Take these portkeys. Just say the wizard who Potter defeated to get out."

He couldn't say Voldemort himself, as he'd be transported, too. He had enough portkeys in his pockets for twenty-four people. He passed out the portkeys. They were bottle caps. They all said the Dark Lord's name, and vanished.

Right, Harry thought, now to get the four remaining.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Doctor McGuinty entered his lab immediately after hearing the gunshots. He could lock himself in until the problems passed. It was cowardly, but he hadn't been in the military for quite some time.

Upon locking his door, he realised something was wrong. He saw a folder lying on the ground. He never let that happen, safety issues and all. He reached into his lab coat as he looked around the room. It was a small room, with few places for one to hide. His hand left the coat right when something moved out of the corner of his eye, at a corner of the ceiling. The object quickly fell down at him.

He turned and flung his hand forward, and was slammed to the wall. He felt it puncture something as he saw furious green eyes.

He was lifted off the ground and slammed on a lab table, as the person groaned out in pain. Within a second, a hand was on his throat, while a stick was brandished beneath his nose. Ah, a wizard. As he expected.

"What did you do to me?" Harry yelled.

"Nothing too dangerous," replied the scientist.

"Tell me, or I _will_ kill you."

"Very well," said the nervous doctor. "I just administered a formula into you."

"What? You stupid quack, what?"

"An enzyme sample that blocks magic in cells."

"I can't do magic?" Harry growled. He said a spell. Nothing happened. Quick as a flash, he took the syringe the doctor stabbed him with and placed it over the doctor's neck.

"It's empty," said the doctor. "And there's no magic to remove from me."

"Idiot, one quick stab to the jugular, and this is becomes quite effective."

"What do you want?"

"Is this permanent?"

"Unfortunately, no." replied the doctor. "I said it was an enzyme reaction. Obviously that the enzymes will be degraded. That'll last about half an hour."

"I'll be dead!"

"That would not be an unfortunate event."

"Where are the rest of the wizards?"

"Dead," said the doctor without remorse. He screamed when the needle entered his flesh.

"Next time, it's the vein," Harry warned. "What's your research progress? And none of this scientific talk. Keep it simple if you want your life."

"O-o-okay," said the doctor, frightened after the stab. "We've gotten some temporary effects, like the enzyme one I got into you. However, the body recognises that it's different, and the enzymes have been broken down after a time. We are looking for more permanent means. And that's where we face the problem.

"To make something that will affect the wizards _and_ their children, we have to deal with the genetics. To do that, we have to find the genes that cause magic. What makes a wizard and not a muggle, as you call us."

"Have you found the gene?"

"No," replied McGuinty. "Humans have at least 35,000 genes. We didn't know if it was one gene, or ten, or a few hundred. To find them all could end up like finding a needle in a stack of needles."

"How many have you found already?"

"Twenty-five, and that's with the help from your ministry."

"What can you do with the twenty-five you've found?"

"A few things," said McGuinty. "We've sequenced all of them completely. We're now looking at knocking them out, or silencing them."

"Confusing," warned Harry, pushing the needle slightly harder.

"It basically means," breathed McGuinty, "that we are looking for ways to prevent the magical genes from functioning. If they can't, then..."

"... then we can't do magic," Harry interrupted.

"Precisely."

"How long will it take?"

"It depends," was the reply. "We might get a breakthrough, or we might get some more assistance from your Ministry. It could take anywhere between months to decades."

"Excellent, I'll be sure to slow it down," said Harry, who then looked at his watch. "Twenty more minutes for this substance you gave me to wear off. But, alas, I can't stay here and continue the chat. You will remain in this room, and sound no alarm. Understood?

"Before I go, do you happen to have any weapons?"

"There area couple of pistols in the drawers," answered McGuinty, "and larger guns in the closet."

"Damn!" Harry said. "I never got the hang of guns. I'd kill myself, I'm that bad. Do you have any swords, or bows and arrows? I'm amazing with them."

"What century are you from? Who the hell has a sword or a bow?"

"Oh well," shrugged Harry. "I'll have to rely on wits. I'm doomed."

He unlocked the door, and ran out of the room. He returned almost immediately.

"I'm sorry, but it seems back-up has arrived. And since it's your fault my time has been wasted, I think it's only fair that you help me out."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Let go of me!" cried McGuinty. "I could be shot in the crossfire."

"That would not be an unfortunate event," replied Harry.

He was holding the scientist tightly, with his left arm around McGuinty's neck. His right hand had his wand, while his left held the syringe right at the researcher's neck.

"Come on," Harry ordered. "Move! We're at the door."

When McGuinty opened the door, light washed over them. Quite weird, as it still was night.

"Stand still," a voice boomed. "Or we will shoot."

Harry looked around him. In all directions, there were gunmen surrounding him. Some looked like law enforcement, others military.

Oh, bugger.

"What time does my watch say?" he whispered.

"10:45"

"Five more bloody minutes," Harry fumed. "Listen, I will stall them. You can inform them that I'm armless, but that would result in your death. If I go, you go with me, right to the bloody end. Understood?"

"O-o-okay," mumbled McGuinty. Harry could hear him sob. Hopefully, that was all he'd do in fear.

"Listen to me," he said in a Boston accent (Accents were another of the many things he learnt). "I am here to represent my people, _The League of Lapins Fuerte_. We have been oppressed by the evil _Galinhas_ for too long."

"What are your demands?" said the voice. Harry couldn't tell where it was coming from. Probably many speakers were used.

"We have placed twenty-three bombs in twenty-three hospitals. I also have this idiot scientist in my grasp, so I'd advise you not to do anything hasty. Firstly, we want our leader, _The Grand Oca_, to be released immediately from his prison in Loch Ness."

"What else do you want?"

"I want a beautiful woman to come and tell me she loves me," Harry said, noticing that there was still two minutes left. "I just want to hear the words. No need for any actions."

"Matilda," the voice ordered. "Go and tell him that."

"Why me?" a female voice answered, sounding annoyed.

"The number of new recruits you've distracted over the years... there's always a silver lining. Go! That's an order."

One of the law enforcers got up and got closer to Harry.

"I love..."

Harry interrupted, "I asked for a beautiful woman. Technically, that means I wish to be able to see her. Tell her to remove the protective helmet."

Matilda got the order, and obeyed. She said the words he asked to hear.

"Oh my my my," Harry said half-seriously (and to waste time, of course.). "Such beauty should be bottled and sold to the rest of us unable to see this. Mona Lisa? Pfff!"

"What else do you want?"

Harry looked at his watch, twenty five seconds.

"I want to, lastly, wish Bulgaria luck on their future endeavours in Quidditch. It is unfortunate that they lost to Ireland, Krum was great. Does anyone know how they did in the '98 and '02 World Cups? Wait! What a coincidence! The Quidditch World Cup is held the same year as the football World Cup!"

Silence answered him. Then whispers broke out, with questions like "Kidich?" and "World Cup?" Someone said that Bulgaria didn't qualify for the '02 World Cup in South Korea and Japan (football).

"Anyways," Harry said, seeing as it was time, "I best be off. I do wish you guys all the best in the investigation, and your obliviations. Ta ta for now."

With that he pushed the scientist to the ground. He took out the portkey, and opened his mouth.

He said "Voldemort" just when the order of fire was sounded.

As he popped out, three of the twenty or so bullets shot hit him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry groaned as he appeared over his bed, and fell on it. His chest hurt, his cheek was on fire, and a bullet hit his upper leg, way too close for comfort.

He tried to stop the bleeding, by applying pressure on the wounds, but the pain just tripled. He groaned, never having been shot before.

He couldn't deal with this by himself. Who to go to? Hermione? As far as he knew, she was no healer. Oh well, he was going to regret this.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Madam Pomfrey grumbled as she walked to the door. The blasted kids wouldn't let her sleep, even.

"I'm coming. I'm coming," she snapped at the door, as the knocking continued. She opened the door, and gasped.

"Potter," she said. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

"Shall we discuss this after I'm at a bed?" Harry asked from the floor.

"Sorry."

"Now, Harry," said Pomfrey. "What's the matter?"

"I've been shot," Harry moaned. "There's a bullet in my face, chest and leg."

"What's a bulet?"

"A metal weapon used to stab people. It's small, a few centimeters, and metallic."

"Oh." She waved her wands around. Harry's blood loss slowed. She waved some more.

"I've found two metal objects inside you," she said. "It seems that the one that hit your face just scratched you.

"Oh," she said, frowning. "That is a problem."

"What?"

"The bully seems to have a substance that'll react with the pain-reducing potion I normally apply to injuries."

"And?"

"And this means I'm going to have to remove the ballets with you feeling it."

"I'll handle it," Harry said firmly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What kind of monster are you?" Harry screamed.

"Shut up, Potter," Pomfrey snapped. "Or you'll wake up the school. Do you want them to know of this?" Harry was silent. "Good."

She waved her wand, and a bullet went out of his chest. Harry hissed, and his eyes became teary.

"You killed Voldemort, and you're crying over this?"

"It hurts."

"Wimp."

Pomfrey then started to remove the bullet from the leg. She held Harry's leg then, to stop him from twitching about. Harry yelped.

"Madam, I've been having fantasies over female health workers for quite some time," he said. "But wouldn't you agree that this isn't the right time?"

Madam Pomfrey didn't dignify that with an answer.

"Perhaps when you're done, we'll do something about that," Harry continued. "Ow!" he yelled when he felt her hand clench on the wound. "That was deliberate!"

"Shut up, Harry," she snapped. "There, I'm done."

"Completely?" Harry asked.

"You'll have to wear bandages," Pomfrey replied. "And you'll feel sore for days."

"Not that I had any plans, mind you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_ATTACK ON MUGGLES_

_Last night, three muggle hospitals were attacked, each by a wizard. The first two attacks were stealth infiltrations, while the third ended in a battle between the wizard and muggle enforcers. _

_The Ministry have concluded that the attacks were from wizards. They have warned that harsh punishments will be applied to the culprits._

_"Whoever had anything to do with this gross breach of wizarding secrecy laws will be punished extremely," announced the Ministry spokesman. "This is unacceptable, and dangerous."_

_It is unclear if the same wizard was the culprit in all three attacks. Sources in the Ministry have said that one called out demands in the confrontation with the muggle enforcers, who later were obliviated. They said that he spoke English, with a Northeastern American accent. Some of the words were of other languages, including French, Portuguese, Spanish and Italian. This reporter has taken the time to translate what was said:_

_"I am here to represent my people, The League of the Strong Rabbits. We have been oppressed by the evil Chickens (or Hens) for too long. _

_"We have placed twenty-three bombs in twenty-three hospitals. I also have this idiot scientist in my grasp, so I'd advise you not to do anything hasty. We want our leader, The Grand Goose, to be released immediately from his prison in Loch Ness."_

_The Ministry has put their best men on the job to ensure the safety of both the magical and muggle worlds._

_Possible suspects is on Page 3_

_The Head Minister signing the Ministry bill on furtherrestricting muggle-wizarding interactions into law on Page 6._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Everyone was seated at the table, and the meeting started. The person at the head of the table spoke first.

"Right, what's this about chickens, rabbits and bombs I hear?" he asked.

"Well, Head Minister sir," said one person. "Someone's infiltrated all three research facilities."

"I know that," replied the Head Minister. "But how?" Answers came from all directions of the table.

"He was a wizard."

"Same guy?" asked the Head Minister.

"Yes sir, the same guy entered all three places."

"Can you detect his wand?"

"No sir."

"Which means he's somewhat powerful," the Head Minister remarked.

"That and he somehow went out of the building without performing a spell."

"Why not?"

"He was stabbed with an enzyme mixture."

"Resourceful, too. Right, what of his identity?" the Head Minister queried.

"Polyjuice potion."

"Who's personality?"

"A dead muggle in Dublin. If he's as good as he seems to be, there will be no link to him."

"His claims for gooses and freedom?"

"Pure nonsense," was the reply. "He came for the wizards and witches being tested on, and that is clear."

"What do we do next?" asked the head of the magical government.

"We wait," someone replied. "He's left nothing. We must wait for him to make the next move."

"He has given us some extreme difficulties," the Head Minister remarked. "With the reappearance of the missing wizards and witches, and their revelation of the muggle experiments, we cannot risk continuing it in the foreseeable future.

"Okay, you're all dismissed. One last question, though."

"Yes sir?"

"One of Polanar's?"

"No," was the reply. "Not the _modus operandi_. He spared the scientist, and the police and soldiers. Polanar's men would've killed them all, and perhaps tortured a few."

"Are you telling me," said the Head Minister wearily, "that in addition to the hell Polanar's giving us, someone else powerful has chosen to join the fray?"

"That seems to be the case, sir."

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A/N: Please review. As of this moment it seems only four people found this story any good. Not helpful to one's confidence. 

To the four reviewers, thank you very much. It is appreciated.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: I wasn't planning to write another chapter so soon. But this came to my head, and I had to write. I'm in the middle of my exams, but that couldn't stop me. **

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Chapter 7  
Weasley Welcome

_"Get up!" ordered a cold voice._

_"I'm hurt professor," replied a young man, clutching his stomach, on the floor._

_"Voldemort wouldn't care. He'd exploit it."_

_"I know."_

_"Then get up!"_

_Harry got on his feet gingerly. He stumbled back to the ground. The teacher remained silent, and waited for him to get back up again._

_"Come on," Harry moaned. "It's my first day! And my seventh lesson! Surely it's enough for now?"_

_"I'll be the judge of that," replied the teacher. "Now your wand, please."_

_And they dueled again. Harry sent a disarming spell, which the teacher batted away easily. The teacher sent back an unknown blue spell, so Harry dodged it. Harry returned with one of his own. The teacher sidestepped._

_The duel changed from then on. The teacher sent spell after spell at Harry, forcing him to defend himself. Harry didn't have time to dodge them. He was forced to block the spells he knew, and bear the brunt of the unknown ones. After a minute, Harry dropped his wand, and fell to the ground._

_"That's enough for now," said the teacher, pocketing his wand._

_"Do you torture all your students like this on their first day?" asked Harry, lying on his back. "Or is this just a Boy-Who-Lived privilege?"_

_For the first time, the teacher's face softened. _

_"I'm sorry Harry," she remarked. "Normally, we start out slow. But you, and your ministry as well, stressed that you had little time. You need to be trained as quickly as possible, and then sent back to Voldemort._

_"I know," Harry acquiesced. "It doesn't mean I have to like it."_

_"No you don't," the teacher agreed. "Let's go for dinner. It's far better than the stuffy teachers."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Right," Harry said, standing in front of his class. "Can anyone tell me the importance of the Ministry Grant Law of 1821's importance to our lesson?"

A couple of hands were raised. He pointed to one.

"It restricted the use of goblin magic to wizards."

"Why?" Harry asked, pointing to the next student.

"Goblin magic is inferior to ours," a Slytherin replied when pointed to.

"Laughably false," Harry sneered. "You've never fought a goblin before, have you? Go with this disillusioned belief, and we'll soon be scraping the many thousand pieces of yourself. Why?" He pointed at another student, who had her hand raised.

"It was a deal made to stop one of the wizard/goblin conflicts."

"Why?"

"We pitied them," remarked a Gryffindor, who wasn't called.

"Wrong," Harry replied. "Contrary to popular belief, we were not winning the 1777-1818 war with the goblins."

"That's not what I was told," someone called.

"Nor I!"

"And do you always take what you are told to be the absolute truth?" Harry replied sharply. The class was silent. "It seems ludicrous, now, to lose to our bankers. Let me get this straight. Goblins are not, and have never been, just bankers. This is something wizards believe to make them seem inferior."

"I've seen them in Gringotts," someone challenged.

"True, but have you seen them elsewhere?" Harry asked. "Who here know where exactly goblins live? Or how they live? Are they rich? Poor? Knowledgeable, or just savages?""

The class remained silent.

"The running of the magical world's money was a massive sacrifice of the wizarding world," Harry said.

"How?" a Slytherin asked sceptically. "They work for us." The rest of the class nodded their heads in agreement.

"Can you imagine what will happen if the goblins refused one day to give us our money?" Harry countered. "Complete chaos. No nation is willing to let the affairs of its money be run by others. They could be cheated, or worse, robbed."

"Then why did the Ministry allow them to run our money?"

"Trust," Harry said. "The goblins had the upper hand in the war, and they wouldn't stop the war unless the Ministry gave up something to them."

"Why didn't we tell them to stuff it?"

"They were winning," Harry said in disbelief. "You want to tell the person with a wand at your throat and the killing curse at his mouth to stuff it? That would've been suicide."

"Well," said a snooty looking boy, "if they had such an advantage, why didn't they refuse and take over?"

"You seem to think goblins actually wanted to rule over us," Harry dismissed. "Contrary to what you may think, but not everyone who fights has a desire to rule others. They couldn't care less for the wizards, much less become their leaders. They wanted freedom for their own kind. And that's what they got with the treaty of 1818."

"Sir?" a shy girl asked. "Why exactly where we losing?"

"Many reasons," Harry replied. "One being the fact that goblins used ambush techniques on us quite effectively. We chased them, not the other way round. As such, all they needed to do was to wait for us, and use the element of surprise. Two, they received support from their fellow goblins in continental Europe. We weren't being helped by the continental European wizards. In fact, at that time, the muggles and wizards of Great Britain were at war with the Spanish, French and Dutch. Some reports claim that they actually sent assistance to the goblins, but that has never been proven.

"The most important reason, was that at 1775–1783, the Americans were revolting against us. They gave extreme problems to the muggles, and to us. This was because we were sent there to fight the American wizards. The numbers we lost in Boston and Philadelphia alone are legendary.

"As a result of all this, we were forced to give the goblins the freedoms and rights they desired. The goblins didn't trust us of course. We subjected them to many abuses, comparable to the ones we commit to the house-elves today. The goblins decided that they weren't going to take it anymore. By letting our money be controlled by them, we put ourselves in a great disadvantage should we ever go into conflict with them again. The chances of us betraying them again, as we have done many times in history, became slim."

"We look like the bad guys," a student mentioned.

"We have done some honourable things in our history, recent ones being fighting Voldemort and Grindlewald," Harry remarked. "However, we are also guilty of performing horrendous acts. Does this mean we are evil? Not necessarily. On the other hand, we must never fall into a lull of convenience. Never should we believe that we are always telling the truth, or doing the right thing, just because of who we are. We must be aware that certain people within our societies will drag us all down through a path of evil. We must never allow them do so. By remaining silent, we assist them.

"The wars against Voldemort displays this easily. Do you know, that he was a student here, when young, just like you guys?"

The children shook their heads.

"Do you know that he was well liked by most of his professors, and became Head Boy? His ability to get supporters was his manipulation of the magical world's superior belief over muggles. His charisma played a major part. We must never believe someone just because they seem likeable. Pay attention to _what_ they say, not what it seems like, or how good it sounds.

"For the next fortnight, I want each of you to find a goblin spell popular with wizards before the ban. Each of you will describe the spell in a 2 minute presentation to the rest of your classmates on what the spell does. Class dismissed."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"The students are all talking about your lesson on the goblin wars of 1777-1818," Hermione mentioned at dinner.

"It reveals our 'polishing' of history," Harry replied.

"Do I hear revolutionary talk from you, Harry?" Malfoy laughed.

"Perhaps," Harry replied. "It seems as if the Ministry have plans to teach the kids what they want them to know. I have to give them the reason not to take the Ministry's word at face-value."

"Anyways," Hermione replied. "We have this weekend off, and Arthur and Molly have invited us to a Weasley dinner. Are you coming, Draco?"

"Nope," he replied. "I've got a date with Lisa."

"Lisa who?" Harry asked.

"Turpin?"

"I'm impressed," Harry whistled, seeing Hermione, he changed his words. "She's a nice girl. Very, _very_, respectable. Is she... er, as respectable as before?"

"I'm not stupid Harry," Hermione laughed. "And she's even more a stunner than before."

"I've dated better than Lisa," Malfoy argued.

"Like who?" Harry challenged.

"Mary Geltade."

"You liar!" Harry said. She was a Ravenclaw, two years above them. An exceptionally appealing female.

"Nope," said Malfoy, proudly. "But she's not very pretty on the inside, if you get what I mean."

"Meaning she's dumber than a rock," Hermione mentioned, "and extremely prejudicial."

"She insulted Granger's blood, _in front_ of her and me," Malfoy explained.

"Malfoy, being a gentleman, ended it right there," Hermione said.

"Well, she reminded me of what I risked my life to defend against. Unacceptable."

"My hero," Hermione said sardonically.

"Wait," Harry said, looking back and forth at them. "I thought you didn't get along."

"We don't," Malfoy said.

"But it doesn't mean we don't trust one another," Hermione tried to explain. "Two completely different things."

"Besides," Malfoy said, "if we both agree that Geltade was a racist idiot, why disagree?"

"You both confuse me," Harry said, shaking his head. "This whole place confuses me."

"It's good to know that you're feeling better," Hermione said, watching Harry very intently.

"When was I not feeling better?" Harry replied, without emotion.

"You were injured, Harry," Hermione said. "I saw you limping."

"Bad night," Harry waved away. "I had a very good dream, and I regretted my further actions."

"You disgusting man!"

"Ah, it was because I'm a man," Harry stressed. "Anyways," he got up. "I have to go to the library. Have to find more things to corrupt our youth with."

Hermione and Malfoy watched him walk away.

"He's hiding something," she said.

"Can you tell me when he wasn't?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Harry!" cried Mrs. Weasley, when she opened the door. She gave him a big hug. Over her shoulder, he saw Hermione mouth 'Molly'.

"Molly," he said. "It's great to see you."

"And you dear," she replied, and gave Hermione an equally big hug.

"Are we the last to come?" he asked upon entry.

"No, Ginny, Percy and Ron have yet to arrive," said Mr. Weasley, who was standing at the room.

Harry observed his best friend's parents (and the closest thing to his own). The small amount of hair Arthur had was now grey. He and Molly changed little else, except for a few lines here and there on their faces.

"Harry!" two voices called at once. He turned to see who they were. And found something _interesting_.

Fred and George finally grew up. During the war, they still walked, talked, and ultimately looked like teenagers. They refused to accept adulthood. Now, their clothing was less colourful. They looked mature, too. They still had a level of mirth on their faces, at least. Seeing them completely serious would be too much for poor Harry.

"Fred, George," he said, looking at one then the other. "Or George, Fred. Whichever."

"What's teaching been like?"

"Can't complain," he replied. "No-one's seemed to have taken the trouble-maker torch yet."

"Shame, what the world has descended to?" one asked.

"After all we've done," said the other.

"Including fight against Voldemort, too."

"You fought for the sake of pranks?" Harry asked.

"Of course, can you imagine pranks being allowed if the bugger took over?"

"Horrifying to think, dear brother. Simply horrifying."

Someone knocked the entrance door. Molly opened it, and said, "Ginny!" The door opened to reveal another surprise for Harry.

Oh sweet Merlin, Harry thought. Ginevra Weasley had grown into an amazingly beautiful woman. While pretty as a teenager, adulthood embraced her. With her long flowing hair, her gorgeous...

Someone slapped his head.

"Oi Fred!" George whispered. "I think Harry's goggling over our sister."

"What punishment do you suggest?" asked Fred.

"Well, seeing as he is a black-haired Weasley, none. But no goggling. A look or two's allowed."

"Only looking has been called, no goggling," Fred whispered. "Do the ayes have it?"

"Aye!" they both yelled.

"The ayes have it!" shouted Fred.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Arthur asked. "Sometimes I wonder if you two suffer from something we haven't yet discovered."

"Extreme intelligence?" George asked.

"Ha!" Molly scoffed.

"At least we have good looks, then. We got that from you, mum."

"Dinner's ready," called someone from the dining room. Bill and Charlie came out.

"Really," Molly said, as they were eating. "I must allow you two to cook more often."

Harry was seated between Hermione and Ginny. Hermione was locked in conversation with Bill, who came alone that night. Ron and Percy came at the begininning of the meal. The Weasleys and Percy didn't solve their differences when Harry last remembered. He made a mental note to ask Hermione about that.

"So, Harry" Ginny said. "How have you been doing?"

"Fine," he replied. "You?"

"Fine. But how are you feeling?"

"I said fine," Harry replied, somewhat confused. Why was she looking at him weirdly? Wait. This looked like the usual looks he got at school when something crazy was going on.

"Ron told you," he hissed.

"Ron told me what?" Ginny replied questioningly.

"Don't give me that!" Harry said. "I know that guilty look."

He sent a few tendrils of Legimency on her. If it was in the fore-front of her mind, he'd see it. There! She was no Occlumens, and he clearly saw what she knew. But how? Ah...

"Ron?" called Harry, as he sat down the table.

"Yes, Harry?" he said through a mouthful of food.

"How could you tell Ginny?" Harry asked. "You stupid prat! You still can't keep secrets, can you? Who else did you tell?"

He looked around, and no-one would look at him back, apart from Hermione. It seemed, with the large grin on her face, that she found the whole thing amusing.

"Everyone?" Harry breathed. "You told everyone?"

"I noticed something was wrong with him," said Fred. "So me and George made him spill."

"And we wouldn't dream of keeping something this juicy to ourselves," continued George.

"How are you coping?" asked Arthur.

"As I have normally," replied Harry, still furious.

"Why you?" asked Molly, shaking her head. "It's always you."

Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Harry's anger melted. How could he stay angry at Mrs. Weasley? He remained silent for a while. The occupants of the table returned to their meals.

"Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"What was I like?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, perplexed.

"What was I like after the experiences I had?" Harry clarified. "Did I change, or remain the same?"

"Well," Ginny said thoughtfully. "You did change. We all did."

"How?"

"I don't know about the others," she said, "but we had a special relationship."

"Relationship?" Harry asked.

"Yep," she said smiling. "Friends who helped one another."

"And?" Harry didn't understand.

"Helped each other with, shall I say, _special desires_."

Harry looked at her, confused. His face changed into horror as he realised what that meant.

"No!" he gasped.

Ginny couldn't hold it after that. She giggled, which quickly turned into a full-fledged laugh.

"I wish you could see your face!" she said between laughs.

"That's cruel!" Harry replied, but soon joined her laughter.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What happened to us?" Harry asked.

Harry and Ginny were seated outside in the jungle, leaning on a tree. Harry was levitating a pebble, moving it around the air with his wand.

"What can I say?" Ginny replied. "We grew apart."

"How?" Harry pressed. "I thought we agreed that we'd wait for the end of Voldemort before we tried to do it again."

"Perhaps our hearts weren't willing to wait. We grew apart, Harry."

"I know we saw very little of each other, with me in Europe. But I really want...wanted to be with you."

"And I, you," Ginny replied, looking at Harry hard. "But we never felt the same afterwards."

"It's hard," Harry explained. "I'm still the Harry who had dreams of being with Ginny, my Ginny. And you are the Ginny who's moved away. What can we do?"

"Nothing," Ginny replied. "What's meant to happen will happen."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"At the moment?" Ginny asked. "No."

"Perhaps one day," Harry offered, "you and I will retry what we weren't able to."

"Perhaps."

She yawned and stretched. She rested her head on Harry's lap. Harry shivered.

"It's been some time since I last was able to get a reaction like that from you," she remarked mischievously.

"What do you plan to do?" she asked after some time.

"My problem now," Harry said, "is that I'm a nineteen year-old in a twenty-five year old's body. That must change. I have to embrace the present, and let go of the past."

"Any girls catch your fancy here?"

"Apart from you?" Harry asked. She nodded. "Yes. Hermione."

"_What_?" Ginny spat, getting up quickly, to see Harry's face clearly.

"Weird, isn't it?" Harry asked. "I've never been interested in Hermione. But this Hermione is different, or maybe I'm different."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"About you?" Harry asked. "Or about Hermione?"

"Either."

"Nothing."

"Why?"

"Like I said," Harry replied. "I'm a nineteen year old in another world. I don't know who I am. Is this attraction to both of you an attempt to hold the past? What I'm familiar with? Is this some psychological safety barrier? Stay with the people you already know.

"Until I know who I am, Ginny, I'll never know who I can love."

Ginny drew him into a hug.

"You'll always have us, all of us, to love," she whispered in his ear. "Never forget that."

* * *

A/N: Brilliant! I've somehow, I don't know how, twisted this into a story with H/G and H/H. Which will it turn out to be? Will it even turn out to either one? I might get someone else with Harry. Or I might write no romance. I have no idea. I post the story as I write. 

Please review. I'm always unsure how effectively I write romance (and action) scenes. What did you think of it? Did you like it? Any comments would be appreciated.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: A reviewer has pointed out that it's obvious that Harry rescued the captives. True, it would've been obvious six years ago, he was the hero of the wizarding world. However, he's done nothing to stop the madness all these years. He refused to step in at all. He no longer becomes the obvious person to the public, unless he mistakenly reveals himself too early. And as for him getting his memory back...well that depends if you think he's lost his memory.

Thank you for your reviews. They are, indeed, the fuel for any writer, and us amateur ones too.

* * *

Chapter 8  
Questions

_"What were your errors in the duel yesterday?" asked the instructor._

_"You were better than me?" Harry guessed._

_"That's not an error."_

_"I didn't know all the spells you performed," Harry guessed again._

_"True, you clearly don't know how to deal with unknown spells," said the teacher. "We'll teach you to detect the level of strength of spells, even if you don't know exactly what they are._

_"One of your main errors, Harry, was that you allowed me to put you in a completely defensive position. If you find yourself only blocking spell after spell, you are losing."_

_"What should I do?"_

_"Change the situation. Send out offensive spells to stop the barrage. Be smarter in your choices of defensive spells. Sometimes a shield's helpful, while blocking other times. And sometimes, just dodging the spells, by apparation or jumping around, is the best thing."_

_"How do I know which to choose?"_

_"Instinct," replied the teacher. "You may be wrong sometimes, but you must always let your instincts guide you in battle. It alone can let you react quickly to the rapid changes that occur. If you try to think about it, your hesitation would be exploited. Strategies should be worked out at the back of your mind, but in the front must be reflexive."_

_"That sounds hard," Harry remarked._

_"At first, it is," agreed the teacher. "But with experience it becomes easier to handle._

_"Now, your wand, please."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry heard the door open, and then a massive weight on his bed. He reached under his pillow with his right hand, took the glasses of the stand with his left, kicked whoever the assailant was, and jumped on the bed in quick succession.

"What the hell was that for?" yelled a voice.

"Ow, I think he hurt my Fred, George," yelled another.

Harry lowered his wand when he realised who they were.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Still in Voldemort-fight mode."

"Gosh, we'd soon be calling you..."

"Mad-eye Potter!"

"Paranoid freak of nature," said Fred.

"I know," replied George shaking his head solemnly. "I've heard about it before. They lose their minds..."

"Thinking their teacups are Death Eaters..."

"And their missus the Dark Lord..."

"Although Lee's wife _is_ the Dark Lord..."

"How he handles Alicia is beyond me."

"And me."

"Wait," Harry interrupted them before they gave his sleepy mind a headache. "Lee married Alicia? As in Alicia Spinnet?"

"Yep," replied Fred. "Dunno how that happened. They didn't talk much."

"But Fred, dear boy," said George, stroking his chin. "We should have suspected, then. The less they talked meant the more they stared. Imagine the looks of hungry passion they passed to each other while we were discussing useless things like Quidditch."

"Quidditch is useless?" Harry asked.

"Sacrilege!" shouted Fred.

"Could you two shut it?" yelled Ron, who was now standing at the doorway. "Some of us are trying to sleep. And have succeeded in growing up."

"Awwwww," George said, batting his eyes at Fred.

"Ickle Ron has grown up, and is now telling us to," Fred remarked in the same tone as George. "What do we say to that, George ol' boy?"

"We say," George said, "that he should grow down. More to an acceptable level for a Weasley."

"Yep," said Fred nodding. "Percy's just a freak of nature. Passes down every six generations or so from Dad's side."

They ran at Ron. Ron, still sleepy, screamed and tried to run off, but they got him quickly. Harry laughed as they carried him to his room.

"Geroff me!" he yelled, trying to sake them off.

"Stop shaking, you Percy-wannabe."

"You'll stop us from teaching you."

Ron told them he'd teach them something very rude. Harry, of course, played no part in helping either side, except watched and laughed at their childishness.

"Breakfast!" called Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen downstairs.

Fred and George dropped Ron at Harry's bed, and without another word, left the room. Ron didn't look at him, getting up to leave. He stopped at the door.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you mad at me for telling?"

"Nah," Harry waved away. "They're your family, and like my own. If you tell reporters though," Harry smiled, "I'll kill you."

"Cheers, Harry."

"Now, can you tell me one thing that's been bothering me?" Harry asked.

"What?"

"When did your parents move to such a large house?"

Harry and Ron finished their breakfasts before the rest of the house got up. They went to the living room, but Harry stopped Ron at the doorway.

Fred and George were using the fire-place, talking with a witch's head in the fire.

"What do you mean profits have decreased?" Fred asked angrily.

"Less people bought our products," replied the blonde witch, looking annoyed at such a stupid question. "Zonko's has had higher sales in Hogsmeade."

"Thanks to the French company buying them," George growled.

"Plus," said the witch, "there was a level of disinterest in the last quarter's range of toys. We must capitalise on the coming summer's Quidditch World Cup."

"Very well. Thanks for the update Sheila," said Fred.

"Thanks," George said.

"See you," and the witch's head vanished.

"Problems?" asked Harry as Ron and he stepped in the living room.

"What?" asked Fred, not noticing their presence. "Not really. Just the nature of business, some risks, some gains, some losses."

"Any advice?" George asked. "After all, you do hold a percentage of the company."

"Any advice I give, and WWW will be bankrupt in a month," Harry laughed. "I never offered advice these past years, did I?"

"Nope."

"Some things shouldn't change."

"Anyways," said Fred. "We were thinking of playing some Quidditch. You up for a game?"

"Not after breakfast," said Ron.

"Yep," Harry agreed. "Let's digest the ton of food we ate, and the three tons Ron devoured, before we do any flying." Harry remembered something.

"Where's my broomstick, anyways?"

"At Hogwarts," Ron replied.

"Look at this," George said, wiping a non-existent tear from his eye. "Ron knows where Harry keeps his things."

"Touching," remarked Fred. "Soon they'll know where they keep their..."

Ron chucked a cushion at Fred.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Kingsley left the Ministry building at the cover of night. It was quite late, but with Polanar causing havoc, it was beginning to become routine.

Kingsley reached the Apparation point, got on the stage which people apparate into and out of, and...

"Not just yet, Mr. Shacklebolt."

Kingsley looked around, his wand pointed in front of him, and three curses on his lips. He couldn't see anyone.

"_Relatis_!" he shouted, casting a revealing spell.

The voice laughed.

"You assume I use magic to cover myself," the voice said. "That is done by weak wizards. Simple hiding techniques are what muggles excel at. Do not try to use _Lumos_, as I will apparate away. And I must have caught your curiosity."

"Who are you?" he called to the darkness. "Where are you?"

"Both meaningless questions," was the reply. Where was it coming from, Kingsley looked around angrily.

"What do you want?" Kingsley called.

"Ah," replied the voice, content. "A much better question. I want to talk with you, Mr. Shacklebolt."

"About what?"

"Polanar, amongst other things. And to provide you with information."

"What about Polanar?"

"What has he been up to?" asked the voice. "In fact, who is he?"

"I don't know who he is, and I've never met him..."

"Apart from the time Mr. Malfoy saved your life."

Damn, how did he know that?

"Apart from that," said Kingsley, covering his shock. "He hasn't revealed himself."

"What does he desire?"

"Power," replied Kingsley. "As for what the power is for, that, too, remains unrevealed."

"A pity. What has he done so far?"

"Nothing much," said Kingsley. "A few attacks here and there. No casualties, and few injuries. We wouldn't be so concerned had we not known of his strength and past connections to Voldemort."

"Fighting a problem before it becomes a problem," noted the voice. "My, how the Ministry's changed. What have you done so far?"

"Apart from preventing the media from reporting it..."

"I've noticed the wizarding world has no idea about Polanar."

"... we've only dealt with the problems he's caused. Right now, he's robbed a couple of muggle banks."

"Foolish, isn't it?" asked the voice. "Won't you just ask Gringotts to report any sudden increase in a bank account."

"We did," replied Kingsley. "But they're most likely sending it to European magical banks, and we have no jurisdiction there. And some governments there don't care for us."

"True."

"What did you want to tell me?" asked Kingsley.

"You're revealing yourself," said the voice.

"How?"

"The Ministry's aware of your 'investigations'. Stop them immediately, if you value your life."

"That it?"

"No," said the voice, sounding annoyed. "I wouldn't come so far just to tell you that. I shall provide you with the info you need. Don't go looking for anything until I tell you so."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," replied the voice. "But you have no choice. This gets far deeper than you think."

"Care to clarify?"

"Yep. The Ministry is in cahoots with the muggle government. they are committing experiments on wizards and witches that were kidnapped."

"We were told that it was a rogue muggle organisation."

"You were lied to. This goes up to the top. Both governments are working together on this. I know the muggle's reasoning, but I haven't the foggiest on the Ministry's. You are to find out why the Ministry's in this. They seek something. What?"

"How do I do this?"

"Keep your ear on the ground. Don't ask anyone anything. I feel that this is big, so it'll involve many departments, including your own. They can't control everything. You will hear bits and pieces. Report them to me."

"Where can I meet you?" asked Kingsley. "And why should I trust you?"

"I will meet you," replied the voice. "And you shouldn't trust me. Yet, you are on your own. I am the only avenue open to you, and you know it.

"Do not despair. A Phoenix song can be heard despite whatever darkness you may find yourself in."

What! It couldn't be...

"Dumbledore?" Kingsley called. No reply. "Dumbledore?" he shouted.

The voice was no longer there.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Dr. Chang?" called the secretary.

"Yes?" replied the therapist.

"You have a patient waiting for you."

"But you said I was free for now."

"I thought it was," replied the puzzled secretary. "But a man came in, and I checked the computer said he booked for now."

Dr. Chang was puzzled, but the man had an appointment, so what was there to do? The doctor went to the room, opened the door and walked up to greet the new patient.

"Harry!" she yelped.

"Hello Cho," he said, lying down on a couch that was never there. "I hope you don't mind me conjuring this couch. The chair wasn't too comfortable."

"No," replied Cho, bemused to say the least. "It's been...

"8 years or so, I think," offered Harry.

"It could be more, if you include my final year at Hogwarts."

"We didn't talked much that year, did we?" Harry asked.

"No," replied Cho.

"Regrettable."

"So," Cho said as she sat down at her chair. Harry remained in the couch, facing her. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I've been told that you've got some psychology experience."

"I'm a medical doctor," corrected Cho.

"I said experience," said Harry. "You've gotten a degree in psychology before you went to medical school. Not required for us in the U.K. Why did you do that, anyways? Had plans to study in the U.S. or Canada?"

"No," said Cho. "Med school's very competitive here. I had no muggle studies. Why would they select me? I had to go through a muggle degree..."

"Which you did brilliant at," interrupted Harry.

"Thank you," said Cho. "Which was enough to get me into a university for medical studies."

"Why?"

"Why?" asked Cho, perplexed.

"Why go to the muggle world after being in the wizarding?" Harry clarified.

"I never left the wizarding nor muggle world, Harry," Cho said. "I'm as much a muggle as I am a witch. I intend to get magical healing training as well."

"Woman," Harry said in disappointment. "There's something as being knowing too much. Your head will explode."

Cho giggled. "Seriously," she said. "Do you know how behind we are in certain illnesses in the wizarding world? Cancer cases are increasing fast, and they don't even know how to detect tumours! The magical world's been too dependent on the muggle world in cases of cancer, TB, AIDS (oh they're rising), and especially genetic illnesses such as Huntington's disease, and so many more. Our isolation from the muggle world will become disastrous, with us getting extremely sick without the knowledge of how to treat the people."

"I didn't know that," Harry said. "Sorry."

"Not at all," Cho waved away. "What did you want, anyways?"

"I have a serious issue," Harry said. "And I wanted to speak with someone over it. You know psychology, so here I am."

"Harry, I must advise you to speak with a professional," Cho stressed. "I only have an undergraduate degree. Doesn't mean I know how to treat patients."

"It's tied with magic," Harry replied. "Unless you know any magical psychologists? Besides, I wouldn't trust them, anyways. It's quite sensitive."

"I'm touched you'd trust me," said Cho seriously. Then she smiled. "Is this a "Harry who has to save the world" thing, or "Harry who has difficulty to ask me to the Yule Ball" thing?"

Harry teased back, "Well Dr. Chang, do you give all your patients the "Madam Puddifoot" treatment?"

Cho laughed at that.

"Seriously, though," Harry said. "Unfortunately, it's the former. And thus, I can't trust strangers."

He proceeded to tell her everything. Well, everything about coming to the future. Nothing about his dealings around the country, though.

"So," she said thoughtfully. "Is this something that has occurred, or is it just in your mind?"

"Of course it occurred!" said Harry.

"If you imagined it," dismissed Cho, "then you'd think it happened, wouldn't you?"

"True."

"But the Avada Kedavra doesn't fit with the mind theory," she continued. "Such dark magic causes havoc. As you can attest to, surviving it before."

"So?" Harry asked.

"It does seem to be a reality, as opposed to a magical form of amnesia," Cho guessed.

"I've come to that conclusion."

"Then," said Cho, "what do want from me?"

"For someone to talk to."

"About what? I'm all ears."

"I'm sick of this," Harry growled, getting off the couch. "I can't stand this any more. I want to go back home."

"You can't was what you said."

"It doesn't mean I don't want to," Harry countered. He paced the room. "I'm sad, Cho. I've forgotten what it's like to be happy."

"Go on."

"Sure I've laughed a bit with the Weasleys and Hermione," Harry said, not facing her. "But it's just a distraction. Normally, there's a weight on my chest. Like something squeezing my heart. I feel as if happiness is an illusion. I don't know what to do."

"With your sadness," said Cho, "do you feel a loss of interest or pleasure?"

"I think so," Harry replied. "I mean, I played Quidditch for the first time in a while, and I didn't care. Normally, that alone brought a smile to my face, despite Voldemort's chaos."

"Have you felt any change in appetite or in your sleep?"

"No."

"What about your decision-making?" Cho asked. "Do you have trouble making decisions?"

"No, I'm fine on that."

"Do you feel empty emotionally?"

"Empty?" asked Harry. "You could say that, in a way. Apart from sadness, I feel nothing. Like no other feeling exists."

"Have you harmed yourself, or attempted suicide? Have you thought of harming yourself?"

"No."

"Harry, could you answer this questionnaire? It's got 21 questions, all multiple choice?"

"Sure," Harry said. He answered the questions in silence, as Cho brought some books and flicked through them, in search of something.

When he was done, she looked over the questions, and sighed.

"Harry, it seems that you are clinically depressed," she said. "Wait, hear me out. I must tell you that I am not qualified to diagnose this, nor treat it."

"Let's say I am," Harry replied. "What do you suggest for me to do?"

"I advise that you go to a therapist friend of mine. She studied with me in the undergraduate degree. Her name is Lucy Smith."

"Does she know of your magic?"

"Nope," Cho said. "And there-in lies the problem. Lucy is one of the most amazing people I've ever heard of. She'll be an incredible asset to your treatment. But you can't tell her of magic, it would break secrecy laws, which have become stricter these past few years. There is also the issue of medication. Many drugs will have a different effect to magical people, including the fact they will react with potions that you have ingested, or will ingest."

Cho stood up, and began pacing the room. Harry sat back down to give her room.

"I have to play a part in your treatment. You will discuss with her your feelings etc... Something any human will feel. On the other hand, how you feel in regards to a magical aspect will have to come to me. I could look for another magical therapist..."

"I won't trust them with this information," Harry said, firmly.

"I thought so," Cho said. "Which leaves only me. I'll have to brush up my skills of therapy, or I'll damage you worse."

Harry laughed nervously at that.

* * *

A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter. 

Some of you may have recognised the Beck Depression Inventory. To those of you who haven't, it's a 21 multiple-choice questionnaire that's used for preliminary diagnosis of clinical depression. I must stress that I have **no** experience in psychology. If you feel unwell, **go to a professional**.

To lighter matters now. How are you taking the story so far? I write this with two goals in mind. One, to be as original as possible. I want this experience to be different from any other story you will ever read, Harry Potter fan-fic or otherwise. Two, I want my writing to effectively get you readers in. To draw you with simple words, and yet give you a vivid experience.

Am I succeeding in either? I would love feedback.

Note: Those of you who are curious, in the U.S. to enter Medical School, one must generally do two/three years in a university first. In Canada, one must finish an undergraduate degree, generally. In Great Britain (and most of the world), however, one can go to med school directly after high school.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: Sorry for the delay (about a month I believe).

A reviewer's asked if I got the forward time-travel idea from Planet of the Apes. To be honest, I've never watched the movie, the original nor the re-make. Now, I'll have got to check it, to see what you meant.

I thank all of you who've reviewed profusely. It makes writing this all the more fun.

* * *

Chapter 9  
Revelations  


_"Get up," the teacher ordered._

_"A minute if you please, sir," replied Harry, through ragged breaths._

_He was on the ground, on his back. He had started muggle fighting classes, and apparently their idea of learning could only come with pain._

_"It's enough for today," said the teacher. "Remain on the ground if you wish."_

_The teacher conjured a chair, and sat on it. A lecture began._

_"In the past, wizards have designated classes for proficiency in magic. There are three such classes._

_"A third class wizard is a very weak wizard. Generally, they are given to students. That, or magically deficient wizards. They are extremely weak."_

_"Like squibs?" Harry asked._

_"No," replied the teacher. "A squib is one who can't do magic. A third class wizard can. They just are hopeless with spell casting."_

_"How do they survive?"_

_"Many don't," was the reply, "and some do. Some great potion-makers, herbologists, historians in the magical world were third class wizards. They concentrated on what they could do, rather than on what they couldn't._

_"A second class wizard is the average wizard. Most of the wizarding population falls under this group. They are competent in wand-waving, but aren't very skilled in any of the main categories of magic; Charms, Transfiguration nor the Dark Arts (or the defence against)._

_"A first-class wizard is a wizard that has been able to become an expert in Charms, __Transfiguration, or the Dark Arts. Aurors, for example, would fall into that."_

_"What about wizards like Voldemort?" Harry queried.  
_

_ "This class system was for society. Wizards like Dumbledore, Voldemort and Grindlewald don't fit this generalisation. They're far more powerful than a first-class wizard."  
_

_ "How would one know which one a stranger is?" Harry asked._

_"In the past," answered the teacher, "the magical population were expected to reveal it in public. A sash was worn over the shoulder, with each class having a different colour. This class system ended over a hundred years ago. Certain wars were fought where there were great advantages for wizards to keep their magical powers secret."_

_"What would the wizards that were more powerful than first-class wear?"_

_"They'd still wear the first-class sash," answered the teacher. "It is always an advantage to have people under-estimate you. Never reveal your strengths." _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_  
_

Hermione woke up quite early in the morning, needing to finish off some essays before classes started. She got them done after a couple of hours. She looked at her watch; the Great Hall was about to be open.

She headed to Harry's quarters, but received no answer to her knocks. Shaking her head, she wondered where would he be at this time. She went back to her room, and quickly came out with an old parchment.

She walked out of the castle, and went to the Forbidden Forest, near Hagrid's residence. Technically, it was still on Hogwarts grounds, but Hermione wondered what Harry needed to do there. Even more puzzling was why he was there this early. Hermione realised Harry was hiding something (as she suspected), so she walked more cautiously. She'll find out what he was doing before he notices her presence.

She saw him in a clearing about a hundred metres into the forest. Funny, she knew that no clearing existed here. Why would Harry need to make one?

He was standing, and wasn't moving. Hermione stopped to see what he was doing, but Harry didn't move for a minute. She snuck up closer, making sure she remained where he couldn't see her.

Harry bent down, and picked up another arrow. He then raised it to a bow, and aimed it towards a target he conjured ahead of him. He was immobile for twenty seconds or so, except for his eyes, which moved slightly in all directions. He let the arrow go.

"Damn!" he remarked, when the arrow missed the target. "Personally, I blame distraction for that disastrous miss. What about you, Hermione?"

Hermione grumbled. He hadn't turned around once, and he still knew of her presence.

"Anyways," Harry continued, "isn't it rude to sneak around? Some call it not minding one's own business."

"Hush you," Hermione muttered, annoyed by the arrogant smile Harry had. "I was looking for you, and didn't find you at your room. I used the Marauder's map to find you. Imagine my surprise to see you here this early."

Harry summoned the fallen arrows, and put them, with the bow, and a sword that was on the ground, into a bag. He then raised his hand and looked at Hermione.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"The map," he replied.

"What about it?"

"I want it back."

"But you gave it to me four years ago," she seethed.

"Well, technically,_ I_ didn't give you," he said smoothly. "Thus, I want what is rightfully mine, back."

"Why is it rightfully yours?" Hermione argued. "We all had it together."

"Inheritance," Harry replied. "Harry Potter, last child of the Marauders. In fact, the only child from a Marauder. I'll take it back, then?"

"But it's so helpful, Harry," Hermione wailed. Harry shrugged.

"Then keep it," he said. "I'm sure there are ways of finding people without the map, and eluding the bloody thing."

"So," Hermione said as she buttered her toast n the Great Hall, "what were you doing?"

"Simple training," Harry replied. "I've got to make sure I'm not rusty."

"So?" Hermione asked.

"So... what?" Harry asked.

"Is there any difference now?"

"Some slight improvements," Harry said. "Nothing more I've noticed. Although, if I learnt more moves over the years, I wouldn't remember them, would I?"

"True."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Welcome," Harry said to the sixth years. "Today, we'll have an interesting class."

The students looked at one another, interested. Harry waved a wand, and the desks disappeared.

"No need for tables today," he said.

He split the class in two, and sent them to opposite walls, so they faced each other. He stood in the middle, between them.

"In the course of your lives, you could find yourselves facing very powerful unknown spells. What will you do?"

"We're screwed," someone said. The class laughed.

"Perhaps," Harry said. "If it's the same as anyone else, then why didn't someone learnt a powerful spell from Russia, or South Africa, and used it on Voldemort? The war would've ended a long time earlier."

The class was silent.

"There is a way to deal with unknown spells," Harry explained. "While each spell has it's own effects, magic can be categorised. Certain spells are similar to one another. Thereby similar, if not the same, block can be used to defend against the similar spells. Otherwise, we'd have to learn a block for every type of spell, which could number in the thousands. And you'd still lose a duel simply because a new spell was used on you. Very, very, impractical.

"No," he continued. "We must be able to categorise spells. But how?"

"By keeping them in memory?" asked a student.

"Typical Ravenclaw," muttered Harry.

"What did you say?" asked the boy.

"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "While that would work, it would also be impractical. You'd still have to memorise it. Imagine trying to defend a spell that was cast in a duel by trying to search your class notes in your head. The spell would've hit you in most cases."

"Then how, sir?"

"By feeling it," Harry said, and the students began to mutter. "Let me explain. Magic is alot about feeling. You feel spells. Some spells even require a certain emotion to work, like the Patronus. By feeling different spells, you'll notice certain similarities between some of them. Then you'll use a block that is suitable for that particular class."

"One problem sir?"

"What would that be?" asked Harry.

"How does one _feel _a spell?"

"Ah," waved Harry away. "You've been taught too much about wand waving and getting the words right. You have no idea how powerful your spells can get if you take the time to stop and feel how the spell feels as it exits your body. It's indescribable, no muggle would understand it. That's why I asked you to line up.

"To each of you, I shall provide a spell. Cast it in turns with the student in front of you, who is assigned the same spell as you. Cast it with your eyes closed. Concentrate on the spell leaving your body. You should feel something. Well, not today, but on persistent casting, you'll understand what I mean. Once you know what you're looking for, it'll get easier.

"After this, I'll teach you about how wizards discriminated against one another using a class system."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX****  
**

"Welcome back to the show," the host said to the camera. "With the rising crisis in Britain, we have gotten a guest willing to give the magical opinion. This is the first time we could get a magical person over here, thus we are very pleased to welcome..." he looked at his notes, "Harry Potter!"

The crowd applauded politely as the handsome young man smiled, and nodded at them from his seat at the table.

"Tell me Mr. Potter," began the host as the applause died down quickly. "What's your position in the magical society?"

"I'm a professor," Harry explained.

"Oh," said the host, disappointed. "Forgive me, I was hoping for someone with a bit more power than an instructor."

"No need to lower teachers, as I'm sure many of your viewers will agree with," Harry said smiling. "But I'm very familiar with the magical society, and they with me."

"Really?" asked the host. "Are you a celebrity?"

"Celebrities aren't held to a very respectable position in this world, are they? Sure they're rich and famous, but insulted almost daily in the papers and telly. I'm somewhat of a celebrity myself in the magical world (and sometimes treated just as bad as the celebrities here), but the magical society owes me for a favour I've done for them."

"Can you clarify?" asked the host.

"Sorry, I'm not authorised. Suffice to say, it was a slippery situation."

"Very well. What can you tell us about the magical world?"

"I wanted to tell your viewers, that we are no harm to them," Harry said, now facing the camera. "We are just like you, apart from being able to perform magic. We have schools and shops. We have banks and our own currency. We have adults and children. We have a functioning government and law enforcements. We even have our own sport, as popular as football. Well, not that popular.

"What I want to tell you is that, throughout history's, man's lack of knowledge of another race or religion has resulted in terrible deeds. Such prejudice is not only unwanted, it's detrimental to the survival of the British Isles, if not the world. Just like you, we have extreme elements of the society stating that a conflict is inevitable and sides must be taken. I ask why? When one person shouts, and a thousand are silent, who gets heard? Too long has the vocal minority been aloud to scream out their views, which are dangerous to both our worlds. It's time for us who desire peace to shout."

"Don't you have the power to attack us? How do you know we won't?" asked the host.

"We are not that numerous, and cannot risk a war with non-wizards," said Harry. "Also, why haven't we attacked before? We didn't just pop out of nowhere. We've been around for many, _many _centuries, if not millennia. Had we wished, we could've started a war when most of you did not know of our existence. Since we haven't, it serves us no purpose for us to attack when you know of our existence, much less prepared for war."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter," remarked the host.

"If you'll allow me one more thing..." offered Harry.

"Please do."

"The more powerful wizards and witches do not wish any conflict. I must stress that none be started. Keep watch over your government. We are not weak, despite our numbers. We will not allow witch-hunts to begin again. Leave us alone, and we'll leave you alone.

"I wish you all a good day."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What the hell was that all about?" roared a man as he stormed through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Who the bugger are you?" asked Harry at his desk, not surprised at the entrance. "Do you dare enter my office without permission, and in such a manner?"

Harry voice was calm, but the words reminded the man just who he was yelling at.

"I'm sorry sir," he said. "I am Quentin Carter, one of the secretary's to the Head Minister."

"Since when did it become Head Minister?" Harry asked in disgust. "Is the government trying to change the fact that the Minister of Magic traditionally answers to the Prime Minister? Forget it. Why are you here?"

"What were you doing in the muggle public? You broke secrecy laws!"

"No, I didn't," said Harry. "Everything I said was either already known, or personal. I have the right to reveal my personal views to whom I please."

"That's besides the point," blustered the secretary. "The way things are going, this is the worst time to do this."

"No," Harry disagreed. "This was the best time to do this. Too long have the governments been letting the situation deteriorate. It's time for more level-headed people to take charge of the matter."

"Are you criticising the magical government?" asked Carter, rising to full height.

"And what if I am?" asked Harry softly. "I was the only one capable of defeating Voldemort. Many in the present government played no part in that. How will you deal with me?"

"Is that a threat?"

"I wouldn't be scared to say it was. Take it as a warning. You're incompetence with Polanar and the muggles will go on no longer..."

Harry stood up, and became silent. The feeling surrounded him. He felt his shoulders stiffen. Who could have cast it? Harry himself only learnt it from Dumbledore, in some papers his former headmaster left to him in his will. He never met someone else who heard of it.

"Mr. Potter?" asked Carter. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine, thank you," said Harry. "I just remembered an appointment that I'm late for. We can continue this later."

"Okay," answered the secretary.

"You know your way out. Next time, make an appointment, or I won't see you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was late in the night when the teenagers stepped out of the McDonald's.

"Oi Peter!" a girl said.

"Yeah, Sarah?" replied a boy.

"Could you call your mum to drop us off on her way back from work?"

"Sure," he said, and got a mobile phone from his pocket. He stopped dialing when he looked across the street. In the darkness, in front of a closed shop, stood four people.

"Are they wearing cloaks?" asked the other girl.

The cloaked figures crossed the street.

"Can we help you?" asked Sarah.

One of them raised an arm, and the three kids fell silent. Sarah tried desperately to move, but her limbs failed her. What was going on?

"What shall we do now, sir?" spoke one of the cloaked people, with a feminine voice.

"We wait," was the reply.

Sarah tried to scream, she tried to thrash about, but to no avail. It was as if her will had vanished. She gave up. There was nothing she could do. A tear crawled down her cheek.

Suddenly, she regained the use of her limbs. A voice, without body, whispered chillingly in her ear.

"Do not move, all three of you. When I make my entrance, run. Stop fidgeting, Peter."

She had no choice but to trust the voice. The cloaked freaks would stop them again if they knew they were free. She felt her friend, Mary, shivering beside her. The unknown person then made his move.

The street was awash with light. The figures covered their eyes to block out the undesired light.

"Wizards and witches," called a voice, from behind the light. "What have these young ones done to deserve your assault?"

Harry cringed. He did sound pompous, but he had to give them no reason to suspect his identity.

"Sir," one of them said. "The kids are gone."

"Leave them," came the reply. "They have served their purpose."

"They were bait?" asked Harry. "How did you know I would notice it."

"I suspected you were a powerful wizard, taking on the wizards and muggles," replied the, possibly male, leader. "Thus, you'd notice the _Reblem _spell, when most would not."

"Who are you?" asked Harry.

"That is of no concern to you," said the leader. "What I want of you, is."

"And what might that be?" was Harry's question.

"For you to die."

Without warning, the leader sent the killing curse out to the direction of the voice. The light quickly disappeared.

"Where'd he go?" asked one of the figures. He looked to his left, and gasped. The colleague beside him was down. Probably dead.

Spells were yelled out, illuminating the dark street. The cloaked wizard saw a shadow move in front of him. He raised his wand, aimed... and felt a great pain at the back of his neck. He then saw black.

"Sir?" asked the last of the cloaked figure, frightened, to his boss.

"Do not panic," warned the leader. "You may as well sign your death form if you do."

"Si... aaaaargh!" screamed the wizard as a shadow covered him.

The leader was alone, and tried to face as many directions as he could, turning swiftly around.

"What is your purpose?" asked a voice, and a person came out from the shadows. Try as he might, the leader could not look at the face properly.

"Why won't you kill me, like you killed my workers?" asked the cloaked leader.

"You're not as weak as them, Polanar," said the man. "I wish to know of your purpose. Voldemort had one. Potter had one. Dumbledore had one. But you are an unknown, and I _do _hate unknowns."

"You know who I am?" gasped the cloaked leader.

"It screams out of you, despite the cloth on your face" laughed the unknown wizard. "You may have been a top level Death Eater, but you have no idea what is power."

"If you know of who I am, then why won't you kill me?"

"I want to know what you want."

"It doesn't concern you."

"It does," snapped the wizard, and Polanar felt his body heat up. "And if you give me attitude, I'll make you regret it."

Polanar waved his wand, and the heat vanished, instead sent back to his assailant.

"You can counter an ancient Egyptian spell?" asked the wizard, surprised. "Impressive. Perhaps I was wrong about you."

"Enough!" Polanar yelled. "You will meet me again, I promise you." He quickly apparated away.

Harry looked at the darkness thoughtfully. There was no point stopping Polanar yet. He wanted Harry to show up, by letting out the spell. Why? Was he just curious, or is there a plan behind all this? The fact that he was a Voldemort supporter didn't help things.

What place did he fit in all this? Pro-wizard, pro-muggle, or pro-himself? That was the least of the things that confused him. There was one baffling thing, which shocked Harry to his very core. He almost lost control of the situation. No, it wasn't the fact that Polanar apparated through Harry's powerful anti-apparition wards.

How on earth was Polanar a muggle-born?

* * *

A/N: Hope this was a good chapter. 

The introduction to this story ends here. Now, to the meat and potatoes (I hope you like potatoes if your a vegetarian). What do you think? I would appreciate any thoughts on my style of writing. Are there any characters you wish to see more of?

It seems that I prefer to write chapters that are around 3000-4000 words. I think that's about fine. What about you?

Please review. I write this hoping people are reading.


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever. Superman belongs to DC comics and Warner Bros.**

A/N: The chapter title may be meaningless to most of you. But I borrowed it from the upcoming film "Superman: Returns". I won't spoil what it means in the movie.

Allow me to thank each and every one of you who's reviewed. There aren't words to describe how it feels knowing some people out there appreciates your work.

**

* * *

**

Chapter 10  
Why the World Doesn't Need Harry Potter

Micheal Gratian was an extremely busy man. Running Great Britain and dealing with the magical menace ensured this. Few days would he return before his wife and children slept. Today would be no different.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," said the Prime Minister, seated at the head of a long table. Every seat at the table was taken, surrounding the Prime Minister with his Cabinet and other trusted colleagues.

His secretary entered.

"The head of the MI5 magical branch is here," she said.

"Let him in," ordered the Prime Minister.

"Sir," said the red-haired man when he entered the room. The Prime Minister offered no seat, so he remained standing.

"You may begin, Thomson," said the Prime Minister.

"As some of may know," Thomson began, "Some years ago, branches in the MI5 and MI6 were built to gain knowledge from the magical community in Britain and the rest of the world."

"Who authorised such a move?" asked someone at the table.

"The Cabinet at the time," was the reply. "We've tried to get muggle-borns to help us out, using the racism preached by a certain wizard," he looked at his notes, "Lord Voldemort was his name. We recently found out that he real name was Tom Riddle. It isn't helpful now, though, as he's bee defeated, and all official records of him are non-existent after he turned eleven years of age."

"Perhaps," said the Prime Minister, "we can deal with matters pertaining to the present?"

"Yes, sir. We have few informants around, as our knowledge of wizards is very limited. But we have been successful in getting a couple in the wizarding government."

"In what departments?"

"Purely beauracratic ones. We've been unable to even contact their law enforcement, the Aurors. And we don't even know a single person from their possible spy department, the Department of Mysteries."

"What have you learned?" asked the Prime Minister.

"Well, sir," said Thomson, flipping a few pages in his folder. "The United Kingdom has just come through a war. Voldemort made an extremely powerful attack on both the magical and our worlds. He was defeated by a certain Harry Potter, a wizard with experience in our world.

"They're rebuilding, structurally and the society. However, a more hostile government has come to power, and a wizard by the name of Polanar has been causing trouble."

"How did you find out about Polanar?"

"The wizarding government contacts told us. All hush-hush, though. Still, if they're telling us, it means he's causing more than just a few problems."

"Excellent," said the Prime Minister, standing up. "Find out what you can, and report back. The meeting is finished."

The Cabinet and the others left the room. Thomson, however, remained behind.

"What did you want to tell me?" asked the Prime Minister.

"We fear that the magic government has some contacts of their own in our leadership," replied Thomson.

"I see," said the Prime Minister, unsurprised. "I suspected as much. There were a few things I wanted to get more details on."

"Such as?" asked Thomson.

"How many contacts do you really have in the magical government?"

"Not a lot. Far more than just a couple, of course. What else?"

"I was told Voldemort was extremely powerful," said the Prime Minister, confused as he looked through a file identical to the one Thomson carried. "But this Harry Potter's a very young man. He would've been..."

"Nineteen years old," filled in Thomson.

"... when Voldemort was defeated," finished the Prime Minister. "How?"

"I don't know," said Thomson. "Some important aspects of the war were quite secretive, even from the magical government. There was a group, called the Phoenix, that spear-headed the defence against Voldemort. We did play a part, though."

"How?" asked the Prime Minister.

"In the summer of 1996 or 1997 (records are lost)," replied Thomson, "the Prime Minister, along with the Minister of Magic, decided that Britain was too dangerous for Potter. There happens to be private schools in different European cities. Potter agreed to leave Britain, and study there. It is believed that he studied in Italy, the Netherlands, Greece, France, Spain and Portugal, amongst a few other places."

"Why so many places?"

"He studied under experts in different fields of magical and normal fighting, and the best happened to be from different countries," replied Thomson. "Plus, he had an added advantage of keeping his whereabouts secret if he kept moving. Voldemort was searching for him."

"How did we play a part?"

"We were in charge of his security," answered Thomson. "MI6 agents stayed with him every day and night. Voldemort, in is hatred of us, would never think Potter would use us to hide him."

"How successful was it?"

"To a degree. Problems did arise, though."

"So," said the Prime Minister, "Is Potter the most powerful wizard in England?"

"Potter?" asked Thomson. "It doesn't seem to be the case. There is something called 'magical potential', which can be studied in the Department of Mysteries. Our contact there told us that while it isn't very precise, if there is a wizard far more powerful than the rest of society, it'll be picked up. Records there says that the most powerful wizard was clearly Voldemort after the death of a certain," checks notes, "Albus Dumbledore.

"Now, however, it isn't so clear who's the most powerful," said Thomson. "While Potter has been the most powerful force in the British Isles, making history single-handedly, we can be sure that Potter is not one of the most powerful wizards when looking at their magical potential. The Department of Mysteries records show that there are a few, and who comes out in top can't be found using their methods."

"And who are they?" asked the Prime Minister.

"We could only find a couple, even the Department only knows around five. There's a Scottish wizard named William Sutherland. Coincidentally, he's a close friend of Potter's. They met when they both had to go to Europe for further studies. They haven't met in the past four years, though, so Sutherland's present duties are mysterious. Polanar is the other."

"So this Polanar could turn out to be another Voldemort?" queried the Prime Minister.

"Unfortunately," said Thomson, rubbing his eyes, "he could. We can be consoled, though, by the fact that not all potential necessarily translates into other forms of energy, as we learn in basic Physics. Potter is living proof of this."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"You ask what may be the outcome of us, the few, fighting the muggles, the many," roared Didius Quinrian, leader of the Protection of the Magical Way party, and Head Minister of Magic.

"I'll tell you," he continued. "We're defending our rights, our survival. Are we not a peaceful people?"

"Yes!" shouted the crowd.

"Are we not good people?" Quinrian boomed, with a Sonorus charm in effect.

"Yes!" screamed the crowd.

"Who is in the right in this conflict?"

"WE ARE!"

"Idiots, aren't they?" someone whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry stood at the back of the crowd, watching with them the magical leader on a podium. He was wrapped in a cloak, his features hidden.

"And you are?" asked Harry, without even looking back.

"A friend, Harry," was the reply.

Harry turned quickly, shocked that someone recognised him. He saw a stranger, with red hair. Red hair...

"Pol..." he began.

"Shush!" chastised the man, annoyed. "Not here. Follow me."

Harry was bemused by all this. He was being treated as if they knew one another. He shrugged, and decided to go along, trusting in his talent to get out of trouble. They went down Diagon Alley until they reached an empty spot.

"Here catch," said Polanar, throwing an object at him.

Harry wasn't fooled, and knew that it was a portkey. As it soared through the air, he checked the destination it was to send him. Looks safe, he thought. He grabbed the object, which turned out to be a rusted key, and felt the tug at his navel.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Scotland?" asked Harry with a raised eyebrow. They were standing on a cliff, with the sea ahead of him. A beautiful view of the waves crashing on the rocks, but Harry couldn't let himself be distracted.

"Harry, it's been a while," said Polanar warmly. "How have you been?"

Harry was puzzled. He knew Polanar? The world was downright crazy.

"I'm sorry?" asked Harry.

"Well, when we avoided one another after... after last time," remarked Polanar. "I didn't want that to last."

"Last time?" asked Harry.

"You remember, our argument." Polanar looked concerned. "Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"What? Oh," said Harry racking his brains. "I was teaching the students this morning, and one of them hit me with some unknown memory charm. Pieces of my memory have been lost. Wasn't permanent, thankfully."

"Idiots, the lot of these Hogwarts students," observed Polanar. "With the single exception standing before me, of course."

"So I don't remember our argument," explained Harry. "Could you clarify?"

"Can't we wait until you get your memory back?" asked Polanar.

"I've got all the time in the world," assured Harry. "And I'm quite curious."

"Well," began Polanar, "we were arguing on how best to proceed. The magical and muggle governments were going ever too close to wars, and we knew the magical society would come off second best. They outnumbered us, and we didn't know how to deal with guns and missiles."

"I see."

"You advocated a wait-and-see policy," said Polanar. "We couldn't attack the muggles, you said. The vast majority were innocent bystanders, like the magical people. But I stressed that as wizards, our concern is our own. I ordered an attack on a muggle bus that had over half of the seats occupied by thugs who had murdered a magical family in Bristol. You became furious at that."

"Obviously," said Harry. "You took the law into your own hands, and killed without authority. The best thing to do would've been to apprehend them and send them to the magical or muggle law enforcement. Not to mention that less than half the bus were innocent, and yet they were killed."

"That's the exact words you used the last time," replied Polanar. "We don't have the luxury of hesitating, pondering moral implications of every decision we make. We are fighting a world on two fronts, fighting two governments. Our own has taken the rights of our people, and the other wants to take our existence."

"We must always think before we act," replied Harry, eyes flashing.

"The risk is we'll miss opportunities by such hesitation."

"The risk to your thinking is that we'll end up a Dark Lords. Our own Voldemorts."

"That's low, Harry," snapped Polanar. "I had no choice but to join him. The world was about to collapse in his favour. It was inevitable."

"Inevitable?" asked Harry increduously. "Who's standing? Me or him?"

"No-one really believed you'll win."

"All who laid their lives thought we'd win. The cowards ran off, or joined the other side. You killed wizards and muggles. You're a muggle-born, for the love of everything good! You thought Voldemort would spare you?"

"I never did," admitted Polanar, "but it was short-term survival. As long as I was the most important wizard, or one of them, he could rely on, I would live. He respected power that much."

"And when you spent your usefullness," said Harry. "Voldemort would've tortured you and then killed you."

"We were never going to be friends, but we've worked together for 2 years," said Polanar. "What happens now?"

"I've had it," Harry said. This was too much.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone's at fault in this situation, it seems," Harry snarled. "You, both governments, and the worst, the general public, the magical and muggle. By allowing, pushing for all this, they have only themselves to blame. There is no Dark Lord here. No evil man running the show. Nope, the evil is within all of them and you. They've embraced this tension. They lust for war.

"The world has decided that conflict is inevitable. I've tried to work around this, to prevent this, but alas! You are all stubborn. To hell with the lot of you. I'm not going to play any hand in this. Let what they ask for, occur."

"Harry," Polanar said, shocked. "What's all this about?"

"I've done far more for Britain than any other individual can claim, since Dumbledore. I've done my duty. I will not enter this madness. What will occur, will occur."

Before he apparated away, he had one more thing to say.

"Never contact me again, or it will be to your peril."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Harry?" asked Hermione at the door to his office.

"Yes?" replied Harry, going through the papers on his desk.

"I was heading to town to see the Halloween treats," she said. "Want to tag along?"

"We aren't to take care of the kids," remarked Harry puzzled. "It's our turn next time."

"We aren't," Hermione said, smiling broadly.

"Excellent," Harry grinned back. "Give me five minutes."

They made their way through Hogsmeade, and then stopped at "The Three Broomsticks".

"What'll you have?" asked Harry.

"Never mind that," said Hermione. "Let me order for a change. What'll you have?"

"Orange juice will be fine with me," said Harry. "I never told you, but I stopped..."

"Drinking?" Hermione finished. "I know. You told us."

She returned with the drinks, a butterbeer for her.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Harry asked after they dispensed with the pleasantries.

"Harry, you've been away some days," Hermione began.

"Away?" asked Harry.

"Yes, missing, absent, can't be found, etc..." Hermione said. "I know you. I know when you're doing something. You've been fine for many years, but now you're having meetings with important people, and limping around. I want to know what's going on."

Harry thought that Hermione wasn't that observant, or he became really good at hiding things, because even Ron and her didn't know that he was in cahoots with Polanar.

"You want to know what's going on?" Harry asked. "Let me tell you. I've been looking around, meeting certain people, and doing some dangerous jobs, that is true."

"What was the purpose of all this?" Hermione queried.

"Isn't it obvious? I was trying to stop the violence before it got out of hand."

Rarely did Harry see Hermione get so happy. The smile that appeared looked like it was going to split her face. Oh, he was going to regret what he was about to do.

"However," he continued. "It seems that this is beyond what I could do. Before, it was dealing with just Voldemort. Infinitely difficult, true, but nothing compared to dealing with the thoughts and feelings of an entire nation."

"What do you mean?" Hermione face fell as she asked this.

"I can't enter this conflict," Harry explained.

"What?" Hermione hissed. "But I thought you were."

"And I thought I was," Harry agreed. "But it's too complex. It isn't the case of finding Horcruxes, destroying said Horcruxes, and then killing a man. This requires one to see the truth. And as Dumbledore told us that day, he didn't have the power to make people see the truth. Neither do I."

"You can try!" Hermione exclaimed, and then lowered her voice, realising they were in a public place.

"To what end?" Harry asked. "What can I do that others can't?"

"The people love you," Hermione stated angrily. "You are a symbol of all they look up to. You defeated Voldemort, alone."

"I know what I did," snapped Harry, angry, too. "I remember being alone to fight an almost insurmountable evil, with a few friends with me. Why? Because most people don't have the courage to defend themselves. They cowered in their houses, unable to even speak his name.

"I remember being slammed by the public, to be made their scapegoat again and again. They quickly forgot what I did for them, and then when things turned out better, they acted like I was a hero again. As if nothing had happened. No apologies. The muggles are the same. They may not have had any role to play, but they think the same.

"The average individual is too scared to state what is right, just to conform to society. The ones with the stones to, and how few they are, get insulted and turned out. They scream for war, drowning out the logical statements with they're idiotic screams.

"They want war?" spat Harry. "Many do not even know what they ask for. Most of the muggles are too young to remember how they suffered sixty years ago. And the magical society has quickly forgotten both Voldemort's wars. They've forgotten how they were too scared to even mention his name. They've forgotten the terror they felt. Only a few were brave to stand up, with an incompetent government."

Harry looked at Hermione, and his anger vanished, his voice broke upon seeing her crushed face. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, on her red face. Her shoulders were shaking, the depressed sobs breaking out of her.

"You know all this," Harry said. "You were one of the few. You wish to help? Admirable. Not for me. I've given all that I could."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, wiping her eyes.

"I'm exhausted of this life. I've given my family, my childhood, my friends, and six years of my life. In return for nothing. They rush to war, not knowing what they ask for. Perhaps once the horrors hits them, they will realise their folly."

"By then it could be too late," argued Hermione.

"Perhaps."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_A week has passed._

"Hello, Kingsley," said Harry from the darkness.

"Seriously, we should meet in better places," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, once again ambushed outside his office building. "What should I call you anyways?"

"You can call me the Tooth Fairy for all I care," replied Harry, with a smile that Kingsley couldn't see. "Fine. Call me Clark."

"Clark? Why?"

"No reason. If you want, you could call me Bill, or Richard."

"Enough," said Kingsley, rubbing his head. "You're giving me a headache. Very well, Clark. Why are you here?"

"I want to know if there's anything you picked up," Harry said.

"Not much really," said Kingsley thoughtfully. "Ah, there is one thing..."

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"Well, it depends if I trust you," explained Kingsley warily.

"It's up to you," Harry said. "If it's important, I might need to know it."

"I'll tell you what I can," Kingsley decided after a while. "There are some of us resisting the governments, and trying to avoid conflict. We've made an underground network of sorts."

"How effective are they?" Harry asked, surprised. He had no idea of their existence.

"Not very at the moment," Kingsley admitted. "Our main concern now is secrecy."

"Our? You're with them?"

"Yep," confirmed Kingsley. "We have a way of contacting one another. Send information and things the governments try to cover up. Some of it is to keep morale high. That we can play a part."

"And?" Harry asked, wondering the point of all this.

"There was an interesting article from someone with us. It was sent to all of us."

"Why are you revealing this to me?" Harry asked.

"It's a major shift in the war," Kingsley explained, "and as such, will leak out for sure."

"Okay, what is it?"

Kingsley searched his pockets, and took out a blank parchment. He whispered a word, and writings appeared.

Harry frowned. Something was off.

"Go ahead and read," Kingsley offered. "I'll need the parchment back, though, so don't vanish."

It seemed to be an article. Harry read it once, and then quickly replicated the words, with Kingsley's permission. He'd need to study this article.

"Potter's friend Granger is with you," Harry said simply. He knew she was up to something. Those shifty looks and arguments meant nothing if she wasn't doing something about it. Hermione was many things, but hypocrite was not one of them.

"Wha-?" stammered Kingsley. "How'd you tell from that?"

"I knew about this, and Potter told a few people, and one of them told me," he lied, "Hermione's the only one who would've joined you.

"Anyways, I must leave," said Harry. "You have been most helpful."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry was back at Hogwarts, seated at the couch in his room. He had the copied article in a parchment held tightly in his hand. Strange, no matter how many times he read it, it didn't change. He read it one more time, to make sure. He let the parchment flutter down to the ground after he was finished. He shut his eyes, trying to push out the pain he felt.

_Why the World Doesn't Need Harry Potter  
by Silver Fire_

_Many of us in the resistance harbour a hope. A secret one. While we have seen no evidence to the contrary, we hope against all logic, that Harry Potter will swoop in and save the world again._

_Why? He has done nothing these past few years. Kept silent when his words could've calmed an angry magical nation, and did nothing when his actions alone could've stood against the whole Ministry._

_Yet we still persist in this 'hope'. I ask again, why? I'll tell you why. Because the last time we faced such darkness, it seemed like Potter was doing nothing. Only after Voldemort was defeated, did we realise that he was always pushing, with those close to him, within the shadows of secrecy, and fighting Voldemort. To this day, most people are oblivious of the many dangers they faced to remove the threat of Voldemort. The number of books it would fill..._

_After this, we are reluctant to think that Potter is doing nothing, sitting idly by while Great Britain falls apart. No, we've convinced ourselves that he's somehow veiled himself within the shadows again. That one day, somehow, sometime, we will wake up and hear, like they said that fateful day when Voldemort fell, "It's all over. Harry Potter has saved us all!"_

_Guess what? It's different this time. I have it on good authority that Harry Potter has been playing no role in helping us. He has left us on our own. He has rightly noticed that this is a far different problem we face. He has, quite rightly too, realised that the people are causing as much a problem as possible. Instead of fighting back, he has decided that he cannot make others see the truth, and has given up. _

_Why? You are baffled I'm sure, as I was. That is his wish. I confess to being as clueless to his reasoning as you are. It is a shame that a wizard who has done **so** much, sacrificed **so** much, should turn away now. When there are a few tendrils of light around, desperately pushing back against the overwhelming darkness that seeks to consume it._

_But know this. We will not fall because of the absence of one soul. We will not wither simply because the ranks of the run-aways, the people who fear to struggle against the wrong, has increased by one. We will fall only if we allow it to. _

_Dumbledore died in the Second War. Others, most notably Potter himself, filled in his massive void. Potter has too, in a way, died. The rest of us will fill in his massive void. We can. We will. We must. The fate of this island rests on our resolve._

_It is a shame Potter has refused to help, but we don't need him. Sure we want him, we desire his presence. But need means that it's the only option to you. That there is nothing else that will do. Potter has never, and will never, be the only option to us. Potter was never, and will never, be needed. The world does not need Potter._

_It's also a shame, after all that he's done, he may be remembered as the man who turned his back on us when we all wanted him. When I needed him._

* * *

A/N: This chapter was tough to write. I tried to convey the emotions right, display the difficulties they face as best as I can do. Comments on my writing style will be most appreciated. The idea of the article came from 'Superman: Returns', too. 

Now that I've revealed Polanar as a muggle-born, how many of you noticed his reference to James Bond in Chapter 3 and thought it weird that a Death Eater said it?

Please review.


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: I've now given the story a Mature rating. I suspected this change in my profile. This chapter has got violence in it, and so should the rest of the story. It wasn't easy writing one part (you'll know what I mean). I was tempted to change it, but it fit, somehow.

One reviewer's kindly pointed out that there hasn't been much action for a while. I think I agree, and will try to balance it out. As for plot development, perhaps I remain too much with people's reactions. I'll try to keep that, and still get the plot moving. Got to make sure I don't get you lot bored.

HP Lexicon was quite helpful in this chapter, as a source for spells used in the books that I've forgotten. Much thanks to them.

Thanks for the reviews, that's the only thing that makes writing a happy endeavour.

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* * *

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Chapter 11  
Memories 

_The manor loomed over them. It even looked appropriately daunting, due to it's inhabitants. The half moon was the only thing that illuminated the environment. _

_Crouched in the bushes a few hundred metres away, hid many wizards._

_"So?" whispered Ron. "What's the deal?"_

_"It seems like the place is empty," Remus stated._

_"Could be a trap," said Neville._

_"Could be that they're sleeping," Hermione countered._

_"You could all shut up and let us plan," snapped Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. "Speculation's not going to get you any closer to the answer. Always assume that the situation's a trap, and you won't ever get surprised."_

_"Yeah, yeah," waved Seamus Finnegan. "Something about 'Constant Vegetable' and all that. We remember."_

_Remus had to hold Moody down. "Not now, Alastor," he urged._

_"What do we do, then?" Ron asked again._

_"It depends if Voldemort is indeed there," said McGonagall._

_"If he is," someone said in the shadows ahead of them. "You most definitely do not belong here."_

_"Wha-?" Remus stammered._

_Moody waited for nothing, and sent a stunner towards the sound. The spell just drifted over the grass._

_"Not bad, Mad-Eye," said the voice, now behind them. "But totally unnecessary."_

_"Harry?" asked Remus. _

_The figure walked out of the shadows in the trees to reveal himself, confirming Remus' guess as true._

_"Hi, hi and all that," he said, looking around. _

_"Harry," Hermione said. "I thought you were in Eindhoven."_

_"I came back here to find an item," Harry said. "And just when I was going to return to the Netherlands, I find out of this operation. __Can you tell me what the hell you're doing?"_

_"A mission?" offered Dean tentatively._

_"Idiots! Voldemort's in that building," Harry snarled. "I specifically said, no, **ordered**, that no-one is to be near Voldemort. No matter what!"_

_"We thought of that," Remus said. "But decided, by majority, to try and storm the place. There are a few interesting things in there. Plus, we have the help of Aurors, who are on the other side."_

_"Weasley, Granger," Harry said. "I told you to stop this, should it happen. You know precisely why you shouldn't be here."_

_"We voted on it, and we were out-numbered by everyone else," Ron explained._

_Harry looked around in disgust, and saved the best of his glares to Ron and Hermione._

_"This is a military team. There's no democracy here. Majority means sod all here," he spat. "I said no approaching Voldemort. That means no approaching him unless I am with you. If they realise we're here, goodness knows what'll hap..."_

_At once, the manor sprung to life. Every window lit up, and a sound, possibly an alarm, blared._

_"Oh, sod it," Remus moaned. "They heard us, or detected the stunner you sent, Moody. Nice one, ol' chap."_

_"Retreat, now!" Harry ordered._

_"What?" exclaimed Hermione. "The Aurors are going to attack. We can't abandon them."_

_"So we're going to attack Volde-bloody-mort with no plan?" asked Harry wearily, rubing his eyes. "Blast it. Attack!"_

_They rushed to the side wall. _

_"Hold it!" yelled McGonagall, stopping the group. She waved her wand and the wall glowed in six or seven different colours._

_"Look at the echantments on that," Hermione gasped. "It would've killed half of us."_

_Harry wasted no time. He looked at McGonagall, and counted to three. At three, they waved their wands in a complicated pattern._

_Nothing happened._

_"To hell with it," growled Moody. He made a stab with his wand, and the whole wall exploded._

_"Subtle," said Remus, sardonically._

_"Effective," replied Moody._

_A group of Death Eaters waited for them as they entered the new 'door' they created. A spacious garden was what they entered, with a fountain in the middle, spouting water high into the air. No introductions were exchanged, apart from a stream of lights. _

_McGonagall conjured a wall right between them and the Death Eaters._

_"Right," Remus said. "They were waiting for us. Ron, Hermione, stay on the left. Dean, Seamus, the right. The four of you will attack. Moody will stay behind in the left, defending Ron and Hermione, while I'll do the same for Dean and Seamus. Harry and..."_

_"No time, we'll do our own thing," Harry interrupted as the wall vanished. _

_They quickly went to their assigned areas. McGonagall stayed at the back, turning rocks into animals and sending them to the Death Eaters. __Harry remained in the middle, directly facing the enemy._

_"Relashio," screamed one of the eight Death Eaters. The night darkness vanished with the light of countless spells cast. _

_Hermione blocked that one spell, and sent back a blasting curse. She missed her target._

_"Avada Kedavra!" yelled another._

_"Mobiliarbus," Remus cast, moving a tree right in front of Dean, blocking the curse._

_"Expelliarmus," Seamus called, sending out the red light. One of the masked opponents lost his wand, and a rapid stunner from McGonagall knocked him to the ground, unconcious._

_The group of people in the garden roamed around, dodging, jumping, blocking. The wave of arms became a blur. Four more Death Eaters fell down._

_Harry remained stationary, oblivious to the madness around him. His eyes were half closed, and he held his wand high, motionless, uncast._

_"Harry, be careful!" shouted Hermione, as a spell missed him._

_"Ignore him," said Moody._

_"I'll defend him," McGonagall stated, and directed her efforts in blocking all spells from getting to him._

_Dean fell down to a stunner. Seamus doubled his efforts, with Remus joining him in attack. _

_Two more Death Eaters were stunned._

_"Crucio!" screamed one of Voldemort's followers. _

_Ron rolled on the ground, screaming. Hermione switched from who she was dueling with to stun the Death Eater who had cast the unforgivable on her friend. It was an error, as the former Death Eater then cast the disarming spell on her. Her wand flew to the side. The Death Eater raised his wand, aimed at Ron, still on the ground._

_"Avada Keda-"_

_Hermione jumped on Ron, still woozy under the effects of the torture curse. The Death Eater stopped his incantation in shock. _

_"No matter," he cackled, and left the wand pointed on Hermione. "Ava..."_

_"Stupefy!"_

_"Stupefy!"_

_"Stupefy!"_

_Three stunners hit the Death Eater, one at a time, sending him flying back._

_One Death Eater remained. Remus, Moody, and McGonagall jumped on him, while Hermione and Seamus awoke Ron and Dean, respectively._

_"Seamus, take Ron and Dean out of here," Harry said, still in thought. "Hermione, find some way to contact the Aurors. Make sure you all retreat."_

_"Decided to return, haven't you?" Seamus asked. "Could've used your help."_

_"Sorry about that," Harry said. "Remus, will you join me?"_

_Moody was just finishing off the last Death Eater, and Remus was brushing off the dust on his robes._

_"Sure, Harry."_

_The two of them entered the main door, with Hermione, Moody and McGonagall ran behind them, intending to follow them in. The three stopped suddenly, as a purple light covered the doorway._

_"What's this?" Moody exclaimed, trying to push through the solid light, to no avail._

_"Voldemort," Harry said simply. "Run."_

_"We can't leave you," Hermione said, anguish in her voice._

_"There's nothing you can do to help, now," Harry replied firmly. "Flee you fools!"_

_McGonagall and Moody left, to find the Aurors and retreat. Hermione remained for a bit, trying to remove the wards, but gave up and left, under further prodding by Harry._

_The pain in Harry's head intensified. He quickly occluded his mind, removing it, and the tendrils that were trying to enter his mind._

_"Hello, Harry," a voice hissed behind him._

_Harry turned. Standing right in the middle of the entrance hall, all alone, stood Voldemort._

_"Remus," Harry said. "Run."_

_"No bloody way," replied Harry's former professor._

_"You see, Harry," Voldemort said. "Light wizards have no rule, no order. They think too much with their hearts, and not their heads. This werewolf knows very well of the outcome of fighting a wizard like me. Yet he still remains, for you. They'll all die, simply for you. How do you keep such deaths off your conscience?" He laughed._

_"Fool," Harry spat. "They die fighting against what you bring. They die for what they believe! The likes of you will never understand that."_

_"Such idealism," waved off Voldemort. "The goal is never attained. Us pragmatic people realise that it is in power where victory lies. Not determination._

_"Enough," the Dark Lord hissed. "You are conserving your magic, I see. You felt our battle coming. You have progressed, Harry."_

_"Remus," Harry said. "Do nothing."_

_Remus watched Harry explode. Harry ran around Voldemort with such speed, clearly assisted by magic. Voldemort remained in his spot, apparently unable to stop Harry._

_Harry jumped on the wall, bounced off it, and quickly leapt to the adjacent wall. He did it a couple of times, until there was one corner left._

_"Idiot boy," spat the Dark Lord. "I am the heir of Slytherin. You wish to trick me with parlour tricks. Sometimes I wonder if I selected the wrong household that Halloween night."_

_Harry, thinking Voldemort was bluffing, ran forward and jumped. He soared through the air, covering the distance toward the corner. Time seemed to slow, the corner wall approaching ever so slowly. When the wall was less than a metre ahead of him, he raised his wand, about to touch it..._

_A sharp and extremely powerful tug was felt in his midriff. He stopped in midair, and was thrown back. He fell on his back on the ground, groaning at the pain the crush on his spine caused._

_"Crucio."_

_The torture the curse wrought hit Harry, and with his back already in extreme pain, Harry screamed. Suddenly the pain stopped._

_"Perhaps I shall end you in a... distinctive manner," the Dark Lord mused. "Make you an example of all who defy me."_

_Voldemort raised his wand, and let it down fast, with a swooshing sound. Harry saw something appear out of it, which then quickly flew towards him. _

_Just as it neared him, though, Harry's view was blocked by a large object, looking up, Harry gasped._

_Remus stood over him, and took the brunt of the mysterious object. He stumbled to the ground, but quickly got up._

_Harry arose, and saw what hit Remus. A long, thin metal rod was protruding out of his waist. _

_"Remus," he groaned._

_"See?" Voldemort waved. "Your followers will die for you. And to their death, you send them. Behold!"_

_Voldemort moved his wand again, and with another swoosh, sent another towards Harry._

_Remus moved quickly in front of Harry. A scream came out of him._

_Harry looked at the rod, and clenched his hand on the wand in fury. _

_The second rod was made out of silver._

_Harry screamed, and sent out a blasting curse. He poured his rage into it, his desire to destroy Voldemort to pieces pushed him on.. _

_It hit a shield the Dark Lord must've conjured previously. Only when the curse hit it, did the electric blue sheild appear for a second, before disappearing again._

_Swoosh! Another scream._

_Voldemort was now targeting Remus._

_"The rage you feel," the Dark Lord called. "It is only normal. Light wizards like Dumbledore foolishly tell you to ignore your own wishes. Embrace it. Can't you feel it's power?"_

_Swoosh!_

_"Avada Kedavra!" Harry shouted furiously. A green light erupted out of his wand, bright and large, flying towards Voldemort._

_Voldemort disappeared, and reappeared a few feet to the left._

_Swoosh!_

_Remus could no longer stand. He turned to Harry._

_"Run! It's not your time," he gasped. _

_And he collapsed to the ground, five rods, four of them silver, embedded in his chest._

_"Accio silver rod!" Harry chanted. One of the rods extracted itself, with difficulty, from Remus motionless body. Harry guided the rod, and sent it through the purple light field. The purple light vanished._

_Harry didn't hesitate, running at top speed outside. He used magic to run even faster. He knew when he was beaten. _

_As he ran, he pointed his wand behind him, over his shoulder, and shouted, "Accio Remus!" He then cast another spell, which helped as he conserved his magic before. Two of the main pillars holding the entrance of the manor shattered._

_The foundations of the manor shook. The house groaned, as if in a struggle, and then the roof over the whole entrance are collapsed, and the rest of the roof quickly followed._

_Harry was outside the compound when Remus summoned body reached him. He checked the objects that each Order member carried, and saw that they were in Hogwarts._

_He held Remus' hand with his left hand, and extracted the portkey with his right hand. He said the password, and felt the pull on his navel._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry sat at his office, his pensieve in front of him. He procrastinated in looking in it. There was something... wrong?... in seeing who you were, but who you could never be. Arrgh! It was too confusing. If Harry had his way, he'd toss the bloody thing into the Thames. After, of course, blasting it into a million pieces.

Why, then, was he about to enter the pensieve? Why was he about to see himself, with his own two eyes? A vision of the man he was. Would he like himself, or be disappointed? He really didn't want to know.

Polanar. When Harry found out that he had been working alongside a former Death Eater, he had to find out why. What would've happened for him to do it? Was it a change of ideologies for him, or a partnership of necessity?

He hopped into the pensieve, into a random memory.

_Harry fell into a building. The hall he was in was massive, and extremely crowded. _

_Underneath a massive chandelier, consisting of thousands of multicolour crystals illuminated by hundreds of flying, bright yellow objects, countless wizards and witches, dressed in various dress robes, mingled. Music was blaring loud. A party of some sort was going on._

_Harry saw a younger version of himself standing alone nearby. He looked about twenty. While he looked very similar to how he remembered himself, the weary lines of battle and sorrow were gone from his face. His eyes, however, still burned as usual, the emerald colour shone brightly behind his glasses._

_Harry observed what caught the younger Harry's attention. Standing by the drinks table was Hermione. She was standing close to a handsome man, laughing at what he was saying, her arm on his shoulder. _

_Younger Harry turned in another direction, which the visitor Harry also looked at. Ron was seating on a chair, a brunette witch seated beside him. She was telling him something that seemed to be interesting. Ron embraced her while she talked, and she returned it._

_Harry turned his head, along with the other Harry. He saw the dance floor, and wondered who Harry was looking at, within the whole crowd. Then he saw her red hair. Ginny was dancing with a dark-skinned wizard, and she was leaning her head on his chest as they rotating slowly around._

_The two Harry's looked back, and saw Fred laughing with Angelina Johnson. She was seated on his lap, a mock angry look on her face. She leaned her head towards Fred and stole a quick kiss._

_"I'm back," a voice said behind the memory Harry, and both turned around._

_A stunningly beautiful witch stood behind him. Her long, black hair flowed behind a gorgeous face. The non-memory Harry gave a wolf whitsle. The memory Harry gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes._

_"Miss me?" she joked._

_"As can be expected," replied Harry._

_The witch looked around, and then said, "The party's going to end soon. I should be going home. Want to come along?" What she wanted was obvious. The hungry look she gave him, as if he was the only piece of bread in a barren wasteland of starving people._

_The memory Harry seemed to remain emotionless, but Harry knew himself, and saw the flash of anger that quickly disappeared in his eyes._

_"I have work to do for the Ministry in the morning," Harry said. "Perhaps some other time."_

_"Mmm... perhaps," she replied, still staring at him. "Well, I best be off."_

_Harry watched her leave, and a look of disgust came on his face._

_"They're all the same," he spat. "They don't know me, not even my father's name, nor do they care, but what's under my trousers is a mystery to them, and they all want to be Sherlocks."_

_The memory Harry threw the glass of water he had on his hand to the side, not reacting to sound of breaking glass, and walked, determined, out of the hall. He fixed a smile on his face. Ron noticed him leave, and got a concerned questioning look on his face. Harry waved, trying to fake a cheery manner. Ron waved back, and returned to his conversation._

_Memory Harry apparated to his home, with Harry following. They both stood at the entrance to a large house. Memory Harry unlocked the door and walked in. He greeted no one when he entered. There was none to greet._

_Harry followed his memory upstairs to the bedroom. His memory kicked off his shoes, and with a deep sigh of sadness, jumped onto the king sized bed, and went to sleep with his dress robes._

The memory ended, and another began.

_Harry was walking in a neighbourhood in the night. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, making him look just like a muggle. Harry reckoned his memory was a couple of years, maybe more, than the previous memory._

_The quiet of the night was suddenly ended by a large explosion. Harry jumped to the ground, a wand in his hand. He turned around, trying to determine the location of the sound. He waved the wand, and found out._

_He quickly apparated a couple of hundred metres towards the explosion. He apparated twice more, with the viewer Harry following, and then found himself in a street with one of the houses ablaze. A group of people, muggles, stood at the outside, shouting at the burning house._

_"No freaks allowed!" they screamed._

_The memory Harry waved his wand, and the group of muggles flew back, falling on the ground a few feet away. He waved his wand again, and the fire subsided a bit. It returned, though, just as high as it was before._

_"Damn, the gas must've exploded," muttered Harry._

_The muggles got up by now. _

_"He's one of the freaks!" one shouted._

_"Let's get him," yelled another._

_"Come!" shouted Harry. "You cowards prey on the weak. Here's your chance with someone who can fight back."_

_The muggles stopped, looking around unsure. Harry showed no fear, in fact he was walking towards them. He raised his wand, and let out a few fireworks and dazzling colours, accompanied by bangs and screeching sounds._

_The muggles turned and ran, but didn't go far. He conjured up ropes, and the muggles were wrapped in them. He then stunned them all to unconciousness._

_He turned back to the burning house, and tried to cool the it down. The gas leak, however, prevented this. The fire persisted, and Harry fell to his knees in horror._

_A rustling sound occured, and Harry turned. He saw the bush shaking. He quickly banished the bush away as he got up._

_A small girl lay on the ground, wearing her nightdress. She couldn'thave been older than nine years old. She was shaking in fear, and drew away when Harry approaced._

_"Please, don't kill me!" she cried. "I don't want to be a freak."_

_"I won't hurt you," Harry replied. "And you're not a freak."_

_"Help my parents," she stammered. "They're in the house."_

_Harry waved his wand toward the house,casting many revealing spells. His head dropped._

_"I'm sorry," he said softly, his words barely audible over the crackling fire. "It's too late. They're gone."_

_She wailed. "But they weren't freaks," she moaned. "I was the only one!"_

_Harry hugged her, and waited until the muggle authorities came. He tried to comfort Clarice (he later learned her name) as best as he could._

_When the police arrived, he told them what had occured, not before removing the fact he was a wizard from the memories of the muggles. He did tell the truth, nonetheless._

_The memory ended with Harry watching the firemen dousing the house with gallons of water._

Another memory began.

_Harry was standing in a forest. The memory Harry looked about the same age as he did in the earlier memory. Polanar was standing before him._

_"What do you want?" Polanar asked cautiously._

_"You seem to be causing some trouble to the Ministry," Harry said. "I want to help."_

_"Why?"_

_"Don't get cocky, Death Eater," Harry growled. "I know of your past, and I'm not allying myself to you. At the moment, we have a similar enemy, and it may be... profitable, if we help one another."_

_"Can we trust one another?" asked Polanar._

_"You can trust me," Harry replied. "As long as our goals, and enemies, are the same, we shall be fine. But I won't trust you, and as soon as things change, I'll kill you. I'll warn you first, though. Give you time to make a run for it before I get you. You will pay for joining Voldemort."_

_"Aren't you risking your life?" Polanar queried. "You clearly don't trust me."_

_"And I never will," Harry remarked. "But I've dealt with your master. You will be too easy. Should I just think that you're betraying me, you die._

_"So," Harry said, with a bored expression, "you're interested?"_

_"Of course," Polanar waved. "No one would refuse the assistance of_ **_the_** _Harry Potter."_

_

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_

A/N: Please review.


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: Another chapter right here. I also wrote two superhero stories, so if anyone's interested, check my profile.

Back to Harry Potter... what did I last write...? Ah yes.

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Chapter 12  
Mystery

"Harry, dear," someone said in Harry's office.

Harry looked up to see MollyWeasley's head coming out from his fireplace.

"Molly," Harry said, standing. "Do come in."

"I'd love to, but I'm busy at the moment."

"How can I help?"asked Harry.

"Well," Molly replied. "Arthur and I wondered if you could stay with us in the Christmas holidays?"

"Really?" Harry said. "I wouldn't wish to be a bother. And I have yet to see my own residence."

"Bother? Pish-posh," Molly dismissed. "We love you being around, and you have to get used to people. Plus, it's not like there's someone at your house you'll be neglecting."

"True," Harry said.

"Also," Molly said, "why don't you bring someone with you to the Christmas dinner?"

"Bring someone?"

"Yes, dear. As in a _date_."

"What? Oh, I don't know..."

"Come on, Harry," Molly said. "I'm sure you could find someone..."

"Okay, then," Harry said. "If I could find someone in such short notice."

"Excellent," said Molly, "I'll see you in two weeks, then."

"See you then."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Albus?"

"Harry! To what do I owe the honour?"

"Just wanted to talk," said Harry.

"Then we shall talk," Dumbledore laughed. "Something bothering you?"

"Have you heard of the wizard, Polanar?" Harry asked.

"I've heard his name mentioned by Minerva once or twice," Dumbledore replied. "But I'm separated from the events of the world, so I'm not sure who he is."

"Well, he's a wizard with some... 'radical', ideas on how to defend us wizards from the muggles," said Harry.

"Radical ideas? These people always pop up in times of difficulty," Dumbledore remarked. "A more violent agenda, perhaps?"

"Exactly. He's just attacked a muggle bus which had over half the people on it being people who attacked some wizards," Harry said. "He killed everyone on board."

"Thereby killing innocents," Dumbledore sighed. "Not to mention trying to assume an authority that he has no right to."

"I agree, and stopped associating myself with him," Harry said.

"You worked with him?" Dumbledore asked in confusion.

"Apparently my other half wasn't just sitting and doing nothing," he said. "He joined forces with Polanar. He didn't approve of the heavy-handed tactics Polanar used, true, but he joined him nonetheless."

"And you disapprove?" Dumbledore asked.

"Of course," Harry replied. "I cut all ties with him the first time I met him."

"You've already made your decision," Dumbledore noted. " Is the reason you're telling me this is that you doubt your decision?"

"No," said Harry swiftly. "Yes... I don't know."

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

"I come here, and I find the country on a knife's edge," Harry said. "No one knows what could happen. Tensions are high. Both the magical and muggle governments are headed by war-mongering incompetents, whose only goal is to defeat the other side. Peaceful co-existence means nothing to them. The muggles and us wizards are seeing our rights and freedoms being eroded very quickly. The ministry's attempting to control the school's curriculum, inter-marriages are illegal, and this is just the beginning.

"What's worse, however," Harry continued, "is that they have the support of alot of the people. They were voted in by the people. The general public are screaming around for blood after every incident, and nobody's asking for calm. I don't know how many people actually don't like the situation, because they're all silent. They could even be the silent majority, and we wouldn't know. How could I change this situation when I feel like the only person willing to stand up?"

"Why do you think you should be the only one?" Dumbledore queried.

"I'm not the only one, true," Harry conceded. "But I'm expected to take the first step, to lead. Hermione's begging me to jump into the fire. Why should I? Why should I be the only one to risk everything and publicly oppose the governments and Polanar? Am I destined to live my life fighting the battles nobody else is willing to fight? What can I do differently to anyone else? What's there to gain, even? I can't make people see the obvious, when they refuse to."

"Yet you got some information," Dumbledore noted. "How did you do this, and keep your identity secret?"

Harry explained how he gathered intel from Kingsley.

"My boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed, eyes twinkling. "I think I may have a compromise in mind."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The bell to the house rang.

"I'll get it!" Molly yelled. "Not like anyone else would bother."

"Merry Christmas, Hermione," Molly said when she opened the door. "And who's this handsome man?"

"He's Micheal," Hermione said, as she hugged Molly. "Micheal Brown works in the Ministry, in the Education department. Micheal, this is Molly Weasley, second parent to me when I was young, and almost my own parent now that both of mine are gone."

"You're far too kind," Molly waved, but her teary eyes showed the effect of the words. "They're in the living room. We're just waiting for Harry to arrive. Bill, Charlie and Percy won't make it tonight."

"Look George, it's Micheal," Fred mentioned in the living room.

"Yeah," George said. "How come you never said you were coming, Mike?"

"I didn't know the last time we met," Micheal replied. "And for the last time, don't call me Mike."

"Okay, Mike," Fred said.

"You guys know each other?" Ginny asked.

"Yep," said George. "We meet up every other week and..." Seeing Molly Weasley in the room, he hesitated. "We watch a bit of quidditch."

"I know you still bet," Molly remarked. "You idiots confide with my husband, and you think I wouldn't find out?"

"But Dad, why'd you tell?" moaned Fred.

"Your mother and I do talk about you kids, you know," Arthur replied.

"Most of it about your negatives," Molly said.

"Mum, did you just make a joke?"

"I think I'm going to cry."

"And stop betting," said Molly. "It's a disgusting habit."

The bell rang, and Ginny got up to get it.

"Harry!" they heard her shout, and then couldn't hear the rest.

"What's she yelling about?" Arthur wondered.

"Girls, unusual creatures," Ron remarked.

"Hey," Hermione argued.

"Sorry, dear," Ron said. "You're outnumbered by men here. Accept you lower position."

Hermione's reply was interuppted by Ginny's return, with two others behind her.

"Look 'ere George," Fred gasped.

"What's that?" George asked.

"It can't be..."

"It looks like one..."

"Smells like one..."

"Smells? You're sick Fred," George said. "Yet it's..."

"A girl?" they both exclaimed.

"Shut up," Harry snapped.

"Harry's embarassed," Fred said.

"Shut up, you two," Molly ordered. "When will you grow up? Harry dear, care to introduce?"

"People, this is Jeanette," Harry said. "Jeanette, these are Molly, Arthur, replacement parents, Ron, Ginny, Hermione Granger. The man's a mystery to me. These two idiots are Fred and George."

Hermione looked at Jeanette very intently, making the latter quite uncomfortable.

"Can I help you?" Jeanette asked.

"Your clothes..."

"Yes?"

"You're a muggle, aren't you?" Hermione guessed.

"Oh," Jeanette laughed. "Yes I am."

"Harry?"

"Two of her sister's are muggle-born witches," Harry explained. "One of them's a seventh year who doesn't take my class. I bumped into her in Hogwarts looking lost, and asked her out. Voila!"

"Since we're all here," Molly said, "shall we eat?"

Dinner came and went without any incident, and afterwards they sat in the living room.

"So, Jeanette," Ginny asked. "What's do you do?"

"I'm a reporter with a muggle newspaper?"

"Really," Ginny got excited. "I'm one too, with the Daily Pr... a magical one. What section do you work in?"

"International affairs," Jeanette replied. "I do write some articles about the country on occasion. You?"

"Current events in this country," Ginny said. "There isn't a international presence in my paper. What's it like for you? Do you get to travel?"

"Travel?" Jeanette asked. "Constantly."

She started to tell them of places she's been to. Ginny listen in fascination.

"So you're dating a muggle," someone whispered into Harry's ear. He turned to see Hermione had sat beside him.

"Yep," Harry replied. "_You_ have a problem with that?"

"The government does," Hermione said. "No inter-marriages."

"Thanks for your concen," said Harry. "But it's only a first date. Talk about marriage is premature."

"You know they'll cause trouble," Hermione replied.

"So?" Harry asked. "Who'll dare come to me and tell me who I can and can not date?"

"So you're using your power so you can have perks the average citizen can't have?" Hermione hissed.

The rest of the living room was silent, everyone now listening to the growing argument.

"I'm taking what's rightfully mine," Harry said. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," argued Hermione, "except for the fact that most other wizards and witches can't date muggles."

"Most other wizards and witches seem to agree with that law," Harry argued. "That or kept silent about it."

"They couldn't go up against the government!"

"Yet you want me to."

"You're different," blustered Hermione.

"What's so different about me?" Harry asked. "Why is it that me standing up publicly makes things so different to others?"

"You're Harry-bloody-Potter," Hermione said. "You are loved so much. It'll make a difference."

"For how long?" shot back Harry. "You've seen them turn on me in seconds."

"Why... you... you..." Hermione couldn't form the words. "You're scared. Scared of what you may lose."

"Of course I am," growled Harry.

"Oh my," Ron mentioned to the rest of the room. "Everbody, move away for your safety."

"I've lost my parents, Sirius, my childhood, and my school years," Harry spat, getting up. "You can add time to the list. Of I'm bloody scared. Are you calling me a coward?"

"No, Harry, I wasn't..."

"You _were_!" Harry shouted. "How dare you lecture me? Tell me, what have you sacrificed to Voldemort?"

"I would've given my life..."

"What _did_ you give?"

Silence.

"Nothing!" Harry snapped. "Yet you go on and on about how I should fight with entire governments, risking those I love around me. It isn't my death I fear. I fear losing everyone. I fear losing you."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Hermione. "I never meant..."

"Perhaps you didn't, but that's what I heard," Harry interrupted. "When you've lost half of what I have, come tell me to sacrifice more.

"I'm sorry Molly, Arthur," he continued. "My deepest apologies, Jeanette, for this evening. I think we should go.

"Merry Christmas," he said to everyone, and left the house.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The room was full of people, abuzz with conversation. The man at the podium spoke.

"Settle down, please," he said. "I am Frank Marsden, for those who don't know. The Ministry's got a few announcements to make."

He went on about a few changes to the Ministry's inner workings. Quite boring stuff, really. Until he reached the last point.

"We are in discussions to restrict wizards from opening accounts in muggle banks."

An uproar erupted. The reporters all started yelling questions.

"Why the sudden removal of rights we've had for over a hundred years?" yelled Ginny, standing beside the window.

"There have been some wizards who've been causing trouble," Marsden said. "They've been using them as a way to keep money away from our jurisdiction. The muggles no longer have any co-operation with us, so it's no longer a matter of asking their assistance."

"Causing trouble?" someone yelled from the back. "Like now?"

"What?" Marsden replied. "What are you talking about?"

"If everybody would remain seated," a person said getting up. "This is an announcement by us troublemakers. Call it a revealing party."

Over ten of the seated people, all cloaked to cover their faces, quickly got up and secured the room, locking the doors and brandishing their wands before anyone could move.

"P-p-Polanar?" Marsden quivered.

"The one and only," the cloaked figure replied.

"What do you plan on doing?" Ginny asked. "Kill us all?"

"We need you reporters," Polanar said. "So you'll live, well _most_ of you should. But that leaves Marsden, who doesn't look like a reporter."

"No he doesn't, sir," one of his subordinates said.

"In fact, he looks like a government dog," Polanar said softly. "Do you know what we do to the government workers?"

"W-w-what?"

"We kill them."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry walked into the staff room, and saw a good many of his colleagues seated around the fireplace. Bill's head was sticking out of it. Bill's agitated look made Harry remain in the back.

"There's a hostage situation in the Ministry building," he said. "Ginny's one of them taken."

"Which building?" Draco asked.

"Research of new spells," Bill replied. "They have a press conference room at the top floor."

"Oh, bugger," Sprout said. "That's the tallest building we wizards have."

"One of the spokesman, Marsden, was thrown out of the window, no magic involved," Bill said. "I remember him from Hogwarts. A class or two above me."

"What do they want?"

"That's the funny thing," said Bill. "They have issued no demands. Seems like the hostages are all they want. But by throwing Marsden out the window, they revealed themselves. Dad thinks they want the publicity. So it could last awhile."

"No-one else has been harmed?"

"Not that we can tell," Bill said. "Dad's trying to find out. The Ministry's sending a negotiator to them in an hour."

The door slammed. Everyone looked back.

"Who the bloody hell was that?" Draco asked.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Are you sure it's smart sending me to them?" asked the negotiator.

"We need to know what they want," replied one of his superiors.

"But what if I join Marsden?"

"Nonsense," waved another superior. "No one hurts the messenger."

"Okay, then. I'm off," said the negotiator, not convinced, and left the room.

"Do you really think he's going to be fine?" asked one of the remaining in the room.

"Not at all," replied the other. "But he'll buy us time to save the many trapped there."

"Buggering hell, I hate this job."

The negotiator walked towards the research building. Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes," the negotiator said as he turned. He didn't turn far enough when he heard...

"_Stupefy!_"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A knock sounded at the conference room door .

"Let him in," Polanar ordered.

A man walked in, up-to-the-shoulders-long black hair, brown eyes, and an extremely scared look on his face.

_Seriously_, Ginny thought, _what kind of cowards does the Ministry hire?_

"I-I-I'm the negotiator," he stammered. "Who am I to talk to?"

"Me," Polanar said. "What's your name?"

"Peter, sir," said the negotiator. "Peter Wayne."

"Well, Peter," Polanar said. "I'm Polanar. What are you doing here?"

"To negotiate," replied Peter. "I'm to find out your demands."

"Such a shame," said Polanar. I like this guy. Don't you?" he asked his colleagues. They replied in the affirmative.

"What do you mean?"asked Peter.

"Well, we don't have any demands," Polanar said. "Just revealing ourselves. By killing as many Ministry employees as we can. Tell me, who pays your salary?"

"The Ministry, sir," Peter replied.

_Cowards **and **idiots?_ thought Ginny in complete shock.

"Sorry, then. _Avada Kedavra!_"

The green light sped towards the negotiator, but hit the wall.

_Where the bloody hell did he go?_

Ginny watched in surprise as the earlier frightened negotiator stood on the other side of the room. He threw, cricket style, a small object at Polanar. After it bounced off the ground, it hit Polanar in the shin, and Polanar vanished.

The negotiator waved his wand about.

"Damn," one of the hostage-takers exclaimed. "We can't apparate!"

Having no other option, the kidnappers pounced on the negotiator. While the negotiator was capable of repelling the attacks at first, he couldn't hold on.

"Expelliarmus," Ginny cast, disarming one of them. "Come one," she urged the other reporters. "He needs our help!"

"We're reporters," someone hissed back.

"So sodding what?" growled Ginny.

Ginny, and a handful of reporters helping, removed the kidnappers off the negotiator, forcing them to direct their efforts their way.

Behind the kidnappers, Ginny tried to not let the negotiator's vicious attacking distract her. He looked like a man in need of exorcism. Wand waving and slashing, he kicked and punched his way through, disarming, injuring and knocking out as many people as he could very quickly.

Due to the distraction, Ginny didn't notice an attacker approaching her from behind.

She was disarmed, and quickly placed under a body-bind.

"Stop!" ordered her assailant. He levitated the still Ginny and hovered her out of the window.

"You're the only one left," spat the negotiator. "Drop her, and you follow."

"I bet you wouldn't risk her death," laughed the wizard.

"I bet you I would," replied the negotiator. "_Stupefy!_"

The spell holding Ginny was released with the wizard stunned, and she fell. She screamed all the way down.

The occupants of the room gasped as they saw the negotiator jump out of the window, too.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Buggering hell_.

Harry watched Ginny fall. He didn't hesistate. He ran across the room, and jumped out of the window.

He dove down, waving his wand, _tripling_ his speed. He could barely see the surroundings flashing by, his attention firmly on the falling object ahead of him.

He felt the air resistance pushing him back, his skin stinging at it. Tears welled in his eyes, yet he pushed his magic to the point that he felt dizzy. He saw the falling object grow larger and larger. He couldn't risk it.

He doubled the speed he was falling again. He couldn't hear anything, the rush of wind blanking out all sound. He felt sick, yet he pushed on.

His hand grabbed the waist of the woman, and he quickly apparated away.

A huge rush of wind blew the leaves on the ground, making them scatter in all directions.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Two people reappeared in a grassy meadow. They fell on the ground, one on top of the other.

The negotiator quckily got up, and checked Ginny. She seemed fine, but was silent.

She coughed.

"What the hell?" she gasped. "What the bloody hell happened?"

He started to explain before he got interrupted.

"I remember," Ginny said. "Who are you?"

"Peter," the negotiator said. "Peter Wayne. Pleasure to meet you."

"You jumped out of a window," Ginny said. "For me? You don't know me. Why?"

"Well, I started the fight," Peter replied, making sure he kept his deeper voice. "So any deaths would've been on my conscience. And I can assure you, it's quite frustrating have someone's death on your guilt."

"You could've died!"

"Really? That was a possibility," he shrugged.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Hyde Park, by the looks of it."

"But why did you jump?" Ginny persisted. "Risk your life for a stranger?"

"Look," Peter answered. "I knew I could do it. So why shouldn't I have tried?"

"You've done this before?"

"Well, not exactly," he said. "But I have done things of equal danger, and of much more."

"Really," Ginny said. "Mind if I ask what?"

"Is this an interview, Miss Weasley?"

"Would it be a problem?"

"For now, yes," he said. "Maybe later."

"But people would want to know what happened."

"Tell them the truth," he replied. "A man by the name of Peter Wayne stepped in and helped out. Give as many details as you wish."

"But who are you?"

"Does it matter?" Peter said, and then vanished.

"To me, it does," Ginny said to the empty space before her.**

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	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: In case you don't notice, the first scene's a continuation of the scene in the previous chapter, where Harry and Dumbledore spoke to one another.

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Chapter 13  
Apprehension

"My boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed, eyes twinkling. "I think I may have a compromise in mind."

Dumbledore explained what he was thinking.

"What's a secret identity going to do?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Think, my boy," Dumbledore said. "You get to keep your identity, while attacking when you have to."

"Yes, but wearing a mask will make others suspicious..."

"No mask," Dumbledore interrupted.

"What?"

"No mask," Dumbledore repeated. "You have to create an alternate identity. This means that people must believe that the person exists."

"What do I call myself?"

"Whatever you like," Dumbledore said.

"Any suggestions?"

"You could call yourself Peter Wayne."

"Why that?" asked Harry.

"They're the names of two cousins of mine. I was quite fond of them," he recalled. "Good men."

"Where are they?"

"Dead," answered Dumbledore. "Died fighting against Grindlewald."

"Do you have any metamorphmagus abilities?" Dumbledore asked. "I remember you once telling me of an incident where you regrew your hair after getting a bad hair-cut from your Aunt."

"My professors in Europe were excited when I told them that," said Harry, "but they couldn't get me to do that again. Sorry, but no face changes on my part alone."

"Then we'll have to deal with glamours," sighed Dumbledore.

"Which can make me look completely different," said Harry.

"Yes, but there are risks," Dumbledore replied. "There are anti-glamour charms. You must make sure that no-one doubts you. As long as Peter Wayne seems like a real person, there's no reason for one to attempt such a charm."

"What about my scar?" Harry asked.

"What about it?"

"Can the glamour charms cover it?"

"You've never done them before?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, I've been taught how to cast it," Harry replied. "But I've never needed to do a whole body transformation."

"Strange," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "You fought a whole war against Voldemort, and you didn't need to go incognito?"

"I have gone undercover," said Harry. "I just never used glamour spells. I've used Polyjuice potion for that."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore clapped. "If the Polyjuice potion could conceal your scar, so can glamour spells and potions."

"Fair enough," Harry said. "I'll have to come up with a story on the wizard's life."

"Be as detailed as possible, but not too detailed," Dumbledore said. "One more thing..."

"What?"

"Tell nobody about this," said Dumbldore.

"No one?"

"Not even Ron or Hermione," Dumbldore stressed. "This is a precaution in case you die."

"If I die, so does Peter Wayne," Harry replied, puzzled.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "But who'll know that? A wizard appears one day, helps out immensely, and then disappears. But his legacy will go on."

"Makes a little sense," Harry said.

"Do not make friends, and this will work," Dumbledore said. "As long as this man's known by nobody, the magical society can be emboldened by him. Legendary heroes are never remembered as flesh and blood."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry walked into the Great Hall in a good mood that day in mid-January. Peter Wayne had done a few things these past few months, in secret and public. No threatening announcements were made from either government. In fact, if the calm persisted, perhaps people would prefer it this way, and be loathe to strike out. All in all, he was a happy man.

Hermione shifted to give Harry space to sit beside her. He accepted with a smile. When you've been friends with someone for so many years, it doesn't fall apart over a few arguments.

"What's your next lesson in corrupting our youth?" Draco asked.

"I think it's time to go over the Cave of Oblivion," Harry replied.

"The Ministry'll be furious," Draco warned. "That's pushing the line, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Harry said. "But it's still legal."

"What do you think, Hermione?" asked Draco.

"Nothing wrong with saying it," Hermione replied. "But it's a waste of time. The cave's ineffective to the wizarding world, despite it's potential power."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"You're going to what?" exclaimed Harry.

He was seated in Cho's office. Seated in a chair, with Cho in front of him. Someone was seated beside him.

"It's not that bad, Harry," Cho urged softly. "It will require relaxation only. It's quite common with wizards."

"Why would this be needed?" Harry argued, arms crossed.

"We're just checking your mental state," said the witch beside him. "Hypnotism can reveal far more of your subconcious that your concious thought can."

"Yes, well," Harry pouted. "Freud was an idiot."

"You wouldn't know Freud's theories from the tooth fairy's," Cho remarked. "So calling him an idiot is a bit of a stretch."

"Wasn't he the one who came up with the Oedipal complex?" Harry asked.

"Let's get back to the subject," said the witch beside him. "It's a safe procedure."

"What? Are you going to swing a ball in front of my eyes, and tell me I am sleepy?" Harry asked.

Both witches stared at him, making Harry feel uncomfortable.

"You've been watching too many movies," Cho said, still staring at him as if he had gone mad.

"You drink a potion," the Cho explained, "and Anna here will help me form questions to ask you."

"The method of asking questions is different than how muggles would ask," Anna said. "There are certain moments that could leave one mad if done incorrectly... Harry? Where are you going?"

"Out of this room," Harry replied, his back to them as he walked quickly to the door. "I heard you say mad, and I'm off."

"Harry, please come back," Cho said. "Let's at least discuss it."

Harry obeyed, not without giving both witches cautious looks.

"There are dangers," Cho admitted, "but Anna here is to ensure nothing goes off."

"What about my personal thoughts?" Harry asked. "There are some things I must keep secret."

"I swear not to ask you nothing that is not beneficial to your treatment," Cho said. "Do you not trust me?"

"Sorry," he said. "But trust's hard these days, when everything around you has changed."

"I won't ask you of anything to do with the current political situation," Cho assured him. "You will remember the questions asked and the answers you gave. So you can deal with me should I go against my word. Is that fine for you?"

"Inescapably," he replied.

"Then drink this," she said, offering him a small vial with a black liquid in it.

He tilted his head back, and took it all in one swig (you could never tell how a potion would taste like).

"Not bad," he murmered.

"Excellent," Cho said. "Anna, prepare him."

"Prepare?" Harry asked. "I thought the drink..."

"Sleep!" Anna said forcefully, placing the palm of her hand on his forehead. He relaxed immediately.

"What is your name?" Cho asked.

"Harry James Potter," Harry heard himself say.

"Your age?"

"25."

"Where are you from?"

"England," Harry heard.

"Seems like it's working?" Cho asked.

"Yes it does," Harry heard his voice.

"Sorry, wasn't specific," Cho laughed. "I was talking to Anna."

Harry remained silent. He felt like he was on auto-pilot, with his mouth moving on it's own.

"How are you feeling?" Cho asked.

"I'm fine," Harry replied.

"And mentally?"

"Not too bad," said Harry. "Teaching is a difficult job, though."

"How are your relationships?" Anna asked.

"Excuse me?" asked the hypnotic Harry.

"Your friends," Anna clarified. "How are you dealing with them?"

"Not too bad," Harry said. "I see Hermione almost every day. But I've barely seen Ron, apart from a couple of dinners at the Weasley home?"

"Do you feel bad about not seeing Ron?" Cho asked.

"A bit," Harry admitted, "but Ron works in the Ministry, and the way the country's going, it is understandable."

"What about Hermione?" Cho asked.

"What about her?" Harry asked back.

"Don't fight the question, Harry," Anna warned. "Just answer it. If it's too personal, tell us."

"It's... fine," Harry conceded. "Hermione and I have been having a few fights."

"About?"

"I cannot say what it was about."

"Very well. How do you feel about it?" Cho asked.

"I hate it," Harry said. "Hermione and Ron are the only people who know me so well in the world. I can't bear losing one of them."

"But you think you're correct in this dispute?" Cho queried.

"Indisputably," Harry replied. "But it doesn't make me feel better."

"It never does," Anna remarked. "But is there a reason why you feel so bad?"

"I don't understand."

"I mean," Anna said, "do you have feelings for Hermione?"

"I value her as a very good friend," Harry said.

"Do you want more than that?" Anna persisted.

"I value her as a very good friend," Harry said, calming himself. "And I love her as such." He didn't want to answer this.

"Don't avoid the question," Cho begged. "This is important in your treatment. Please answer."

"Are you attracted to her?" queried Anna.

Harry pushed his anger forward. Couldn't they see he didn't want to answer this? It was a struggle, but he ended up speaking without the hypnotic influence.

"Yes, I bloody well am attracted to her!" he shouted, getting up. "This questioning is over."

"Sweet Merlin," Anna gasped. "Sit back down, we haven't given you the potion to get you out of it."

"Cho," she continued. "Stun him if he moves. A wizard shouldn't be able to stand on his own, under the dosage we gave him."

Harry couldn't hear them. At that moment, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he stumbled and fell. Before he hit the ground, however, his concious mind was no longer in the room.

_Harry didn't recognise where he was. It looked like a large hall, illuminated by less candles than were needed. He noticed that there were no windows._

_He looked to the vicinity nearer to him, and noticed that he was held on each arm by a wizard. He looked ahead of him._

_Polanar._

_All of the sudden he felt his mouth move, and heard himself speak. Completely out of his control, just like when hypnotised._

_"You'll regret it, Polanar," he spat._

_"No," Polanar replied with a smile, "I rather think I will not, for obvious reasons."_

_"It won't work forever," Harry screamed, thrashing about, trying to push away the two men holding him, to no avail. "And when it fails, I'll kill you."_

_"Just why should it fail?" Polanar said. "A wizard of my caliber won't mess this up."_

_"You're a coward!" Harry roared, the candles flickering wildly. "I never thought I'd say this, but Voldemort was a better wizard than you. At least his loyalties were to himself. Not like you, you fucking coward!"_

_Oh my, the viewer Harry thought, things had to be bad indeed if he lost control of himself like this._

_"Language Potter," Polanar tutted. "Like the saying goes, it's not personal."_

_Polanar leaned back, waved his wand, and said something. Harry couldn't tell what was cast as the memory Harry roared, and thrashed about. He couldn't even see the spell before the memory ended suddenly._

"Harry, wake up," Cho pleaded, slapping him in the face.

"Merlin," moaned Anna. "We've killed the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Shush Anna," Cho snapped. "Get me that glass of water..."

Harry groaned.

"Harry!" Cho exclaimed. "How are you?"

"Apart from feeling as if a truck ran through my head," Harry said, "not too bad. You gave me the potion to get me out of the hypnotism?"

"Yes," Cho replied.

"Good," Harry said, trying to get up, before giving up quickly. "I think I'll lie down for a moment."

"What happened, Harry?" asked Anna.

"Well, I saw myself somewhere else," Harry replied.

"Excuse me?"

"It felt like a memory," Harry explained. "Only I don't remember this one. Can hypnotism do that?"

"What?" Cho asked. "Bring out a memory that a person doesn't recall? It has been claimed to have been done before."

"So it's a real memory?" Harry asked.

"You could assume so," Anna said. "Your mind accepts that it's a memory, so unless it was planted..."

"Doubtful," Harry replied. "I have been trained to resist mind alteration."

"Then it's most likely true," said Anna, "or you've imagined it."

"Either way," Cho remarked. "I think that this is a good place to end it today."

"I concur," Harry said. "Before I go, do you have any aspirin?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry sat at the desk, trying to recall the memory. What did it mean? Why did Polanar attack him? Why didn't he remember it? Harry was at a loss, and didn't know what to think of it.

He already told Hermione and she was trying to figure it out, even getting the cute, determined look she always got when she was faced with a confusing situation. Well, he only considered it cute now. Before, when they were kids, he'd just wonder when the hell she would tell Ron and him what she was thinking.

"Sir?" asked someone ahead of him.

He quickly got up, having not realised that the class was filled with the students. He paused in front of the class, trying to remember his lesson. He took a deep breath, and smiled at the students.

"We face uncertain times," Harry said to his upper year class. "So I thought I could tell you some more history."

"Fascinating," drawled a student. Harry chuckled.

"I assure you," he said, "it will be.

"Now, have you ever wondered exactly why we haven't used magic to remove ourselves from society?" Harry continued.

"What do you mean?" a student asked.

"I mean, why haven't we removed us from every record, and mind, of all muggles, of our existence?" Harry said. "There are magic spells that can do this."

"But sir," a girl said. "It would require an immense amount of magic. Plus it's highly complex."

"Yes, it is," Harry said. "That's why the ancient wizards placed a large number of magical artifacts, some of inhuman powers, into one location, to serve that purpose. Some of the artifacts have revealing powers too, making a person capable of finding lost knowledge."

"Where is the cave?"

"The location is known to some wizards," Harry said. "A quick search of the library will tell you."

"What does it do, exactly?"

"When the spells are cast from it," Harry explained, "it will cause every muggle in all of the British Isles, and Ireland, to completely forget that wizards exist."

"Brilliant!" someone roared. "Why don't we use it now?"

"You see, there's a little problem," Harry said.

The class groaned.

"Yes, I know, there's always something more," laughed Harry. "When King William of Normandy took over, he placed us under an oath. The Scottish came into the oath, too, afterwards when they became a part of us."

"What was the oath?"

"That we never use the cave, unless betrayed," Harry said. "Or unless the monarchy allowed us."

"What?" the class was shocked. "Why would we do that?"

"We were beaten by the Normans. It was that, or death."

"Why didn't we use it anyways, then?" a boy asked. "They wouldn't know we were there."

"Because King William was accompanied by Norman wizards, the reason why we were defeated so badly," Harry replied. "No, it was death, or to be under the monarchy."

"What did we gain in return?" someone asked.

"Well, we became autonomous," Harry said. "We rule ourselves as we see fit, with no interference from muggles. As long as we didn't oppose the monarchy, we were left alone. We had to defend the island in case of invasion from another country should the other country have wizards attacking with them."

"Why don't we just use the cave anyways?" a boy asked. "Just break the oath."

"We can't," Harry replied. "Magic entered willingly is the most powerful of all. We took a magical vow never to use it, and it restricts us, even generations afterwards. We can get as many wizards as we can, and a spark won't come out."

"But isn't the government betraying us now?" a girl asked.

"Five points for the question," Harry beamed at her. "Perhaps the muggle government is betraying us, but the monarchy hasn't yet. Our oath specifically stated the monarchy. We had made the error, along with the muggles, of never realising that one day, the power of the nation may not rest with a King or Queen, but an elected citizen."

"But the Queen..."

"The queen hasn't taken any sides in the conflict so far," Harry said. "So we'd have to ask her permission to do it."

"Why doesn't she let us?"

"Yeah, it's clear we're in trouble."

"Simple," Harry said. "Imagine the disaster if nobody knew we existed. We could do anything. Forge documents, spell minds, and obliviate people to make them believe we're millionaires, own their property and companies, rule them. We could literally get away with murder. It's a great risk for the muggles to take."

"What's the cave called, anyways?"

"The Cave of Oblivion."

The class was silent, and then laughter erupted. A few students were actually holding their chests, tears streaming down their eyes.

"That's the name?"

"Probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"How cliche."

"Well," Harry sniffed. "I wasn't the idiot that came up with that name."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Gratian stood in front of a mob of reporters.

"Today, science has once again shone a light into the darkness of the world," he said. "I am pleased, no, honoured, to announce that a radical new treatment has been successful that can suppress magical traits in humans."

The reaction of the reporters was explosive. Questions came from all directions, shouted and screamed, drowning out the Prime Minister's next words. The Prime Minister waited for it to subside.

"We plan on administering it only to the individuals who accept it," he continued. "I must stress that no coercion will occur. Only those who wish to rid themselves of this will get it."

"But why?" a reporter interrupted.

"Some parents of magical children do suffer the psychological and social effects of having children so different from them," Gratian answered. "We felt that they should have an option of removing the magic from the children. You can ask any parent how separated they feel from their magical children, going to a far away school, and in a secret society. When the children grow up into adults, they live in this society, and the parents can rarely see them, nor understand what they do. They have a right to want they're children be like them."

"What about the children?" asked another reporter. "Do they not have the right to decide such a life-altering decision?"

"They're too young to decide that," Gratian said. "The parents are the legal guardians of the children."

"Why don't we only allow them to become adults first, and have them decide for themselves?" was another question. "Rather than have their whole lifestyle changed without their consent?"

"Are you saying parents won't take their children's thoughts into consideration?" scoffed the Prime Minister. "How inconsiderate."

"Inconsiderate it may be," shot back the reporter, "but can you imagine the legal ramifications of this?"

"The government is in discussions to propose a new bill giving parents that right," said the Prime Minister. "We'll have a democratic process, where all positions will be considered equally. That is all."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry and Hermione were marking papers in her office. The cloak of silence in the room was only broken by the shifting of parchments, and the scratching of the quill on the parchments.

A knock sounded in the door, and it opened enough for Draco's head to extend in.

"Are you busy?" he asked.

"No," answered Hermione. "Come in."

"McGonagall's gone to the Ministry," he remarked.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"She wanted to go over the Ministry's role into the school curriculum. Thinks they're taking it a step too far"

"Brilliant," Harry said.

"What do you think of this Peter Wayne guy?" Draco said. "I just read that he stole the Ministry files that showed they were contemplating a ban on travelling to North America. He sent them to the newspapers."

"They're really scared about the Americans and Canadians entering this mess," Hermione shook her head. "Like they care about us."

"The public's furious, of course," Harry said.

"Yep," said Draco. "They had to send out a quick press release that it was only hypothetical, and they never were considering to actually make that move."

"Not now they aren't," said Harry. "But why did they risk it in the first place?"

"They were waiting for a disaster to strike, and then blame the American and Canadian magical governments of playing a role in it," said Hermione. "That's their tactic. People get distracted by tragedy, and then they throw in another law."

"But what about this Wayne character?" asked Draco. "He's been causing the Ministry some hell."

"Perhaps he's a vigilante," Harry suggested.

"Maybe he's out for revenge," Hermione wondered.

"I think he's brilliant," Draco said.

"You do?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. Look at the troubles he's started," said Draco. "He's gotten the Ministry distracted, and the rest of us can breathe a bit easier."

"But just exactly what does he want?" Hermione asked. "I'm all for allies, but he's a mystery. Is he a new Dark lord in the making? Voldemort didn't announce his plans immediately."

"No, he didn't," agreed Draco.

Harry quickly changed the subject.

"What about the muggles starting the legal process to stop magic in muggle-born children?" he asked.

"Illegal," Hermione said.

"They have no ides what they've done," Draco said. "It's obvious they're trying to weaken us, reduce our numbers. Even die-hard purebloods are furious, from what I've gathered. This can open up a whole lot of trouble."

"Well, let's hope the trouble's at least a year off," Harry said. "We deserve the peace and quiet."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Micheal Gratian stood in the parliament, answering questions from the members of parliament. He had just finished answering a grueling one from the Labour back bench, when another stood up.

"What are your views on a traitorous government?" the man asked. Everyone looked up. "One," he continued, "who has plans to attack the innocent subjects of the Queen, the magical community."

"Who the bugger are you?" the British Prime Minister bellowed.

"Answer the bloody question!"

"Mr. Speaker," the Prime Minister said. "This man is not a member of parliament. I suggest that he be taken out immediately."

The Speaker agreed, and security men came to escort the protester out.

"You will not succeed!" screamed the man, as security approached him.

Suddenly, the security men were flung back, away from the man. They fell painfully on the ground. The parliament grew restless.

The man raised a stick, waved it around, and screamed something.

With him as an epicenter, a great force streamed out, expanding outwards until the whole room was covered by it. It was transparent, but had an ability to bend the light around it, making it visible. Quickly following it, an explosion erupted from the stick, blowing the whole room away.

The man apparated away, not bothering to remain and see the extent of the damage he caused.

**

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. Please review.


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I may not reply to every one of them, but they've been wonderful.

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Chapter 14  
Diagon Devastation

"This can't go on, your Highness," Harry pleaded.

"Think of what you're asking me," the Queen replied. "I cannot risk the magical community living in complete secrecy from the muggle one."

"We are _dying_," Harry said. "Our ministry's destroyed. Innocent civilians murdered in the streets. Some people apparently know some of the magical people in muggle areas, and are announcing them. We can't go on like this."

"The loss of life is regrettable," agreed the Queen. "However, we're now in a situation where we have both governments exterminated. _Both_! The people who have headed new the muggle government are out for blood. And now you tell me you have no government of your own."

"Then let me use the cave," begged Harry. "It will solve everything."

"It'll solve your problems, true," the monarch remarked. "But what about the wizards out for revenge, pray tell? What'll stop them from killing any muggle they had a fight with?"

"We'll rein them in," promised Harry.

"Why aren't they reined in, now?" countered the Queen. "Muggles have been killed, too, do I have to remind you? Including the parliament, with every member of parliament, the cabinet, the prime minister, and two nephews of mine? Why weren't they reined in then?"

"My deepest condolences," Harry offered. "But we are the minority. With strategic attacks, our entire population can be wiped out. We have no leaders, and our numbers dwindle by the day. We are becoming extinct."

"Do not be melodramatic," chided the Queen.

"Melodramatic!" spoke Harry loudly. "Soon there will be no witch nor wizard in all of Britain, and every new one who comes from muggle parents will have their magic removed by genetics. How melodramatic is that?"

"Harry, be reasonable, please," the Queen said. "By allowing you to use the cave, I could place the whole muggle population in Britain, and Ireland, into a slavery where they are run by the wizards."

"What will it take for you to agree?" Harry sighed.

"I'd have to see that you have no other option," answered the Queen.

"That'll only be too easy," Harry smiled sadly. "I'll return when I prove it. Good day."

He got up and walked to the door.

"Harry?"

"Yes, your Highness?"

"I don't want to seem cold," the Queen said. "But it is impossibly difficult to watch your nation split in two, and you being torn to decide the right course of action."

"I don't envy you," said Harry kindly. "But I will not be so understanding with the muggles attacking us."

"Whatever do you mean?" asked the Queen.

"Do you know what happens when a wild animal is cornered by another, larger, one?"

"No."

"They fight back," Harry said. "Savagely."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_**A few days earlier**_

Harry and Hermione were seated in his office, relaxing after a long day of classes.

The door to his office slammed open. Harry got up to give a piece of his mind to the idiot who couldn't knock a bloody door.

"Ron?" Hermione asked. "What's the problem?"

Ron ran in the room, dishevelled, and a look of horror on his face. He took deep breaths, probably from running to the office.

"Muggle parliament, destroyed," he gasped.

"Sit down," Harry offered. "What happened?"

"A wizard entered the Prime Minister questioning from the MPs, and blew the whole room completely," Ron said. "Everyone in's dead."

Hermione got up. "We have to warn the Ministry," she stressed.

"Too late," Ron said. "I was working undercover as the head of the MI5 magical branch, so I could escape. But by the time I reached the Ministry of Magic, the building was finished."

"_What_?"

"They sent fighter jets to destroy the main building," Ron explained. "They knew that the Wizengamot was having a session, along with the Minister and head of departments. They bombed it to ground, literally. Nobody's survived that."

"How do you know all this muggle things?" Harry asked.

"I'm undercover, remember?" Ron said. "I had to learn how to live as a muggle. Took some time."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione gasped. "McGonagall."

"What about her?" asked Ron.

"She's at the Ministry," Hermione wailed. "We have to save her!"

"Didn't you hear me?" Ron asked. "If she's at the Ministry, she's dead. We've got to save everyone else."

"Leave that to me," Hermione said. "I've gotten some contacts throughout England and Scotland in muggle areas. Consider it an underground group. Where do you want the wizards and witches to go?"

"Send them here," Harry replied.

"Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"It's the only place I'll trust," Harry said. "With a thousand years of protections, not to mention the four founders' included, can you suggest a safer place?"

Hermione and Ron were silent.

"Very well," Hermione said. "I'm off."

"We'll head to Wales," Ron said. "There are some magical communities in muggle environments there."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"That went easy," Harry said to Ron.

"Unbelievably," Ron agreed. "Just head to Cardiff, send some announcements, and poof! We've gotten the evacuation started. We should come back a couple of days, to ensure we didn't miss anybody."

"We will," Harry said.

They were seated in a restaraunt, eating lunch. Something on the television caught their eyes. Harry asked a nearby waiter to raise the volume.

"Right now, the air over London has been passed over by many of the RAF fighter jets," the reporter on the scene said. "They have concentrated over Charing Cross Road, bombarding an unknown location. Strangely, while smoke is visible, we have no idea what has been hit. There have been no eye-witness reports of a struck location."

"Bugger me," Ron muttered.

"Let's go," Harry said, throwing a few pound notes on the table.

"Let's apparate into Diagon Alley," Ron suggested.

"Why?"

"I think the surrounding roads will be covered with muggle military," Ron said. "We can't risk that."

"Fair enough," said Harry. "Let's apparate in front of Gringotts."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hermione, on the other hand, had things difficult. She just went through a grueling rescue of a family in Liverpool, who were attacked by civilians. What compounded the difficulty was her and Kingsley's reluctance to use dangerous spells against the civilians.

"Damn the both of you!" cursed Draco, clutching his arm. "I should've knocked that idiot to the 19th century."

"Come on Malfoy," Hermione said. "That pebble wasn't thrown so fast."

"Pebble?" exclaimed Draco. "Perhaps I should throw that rock at you, and let's see you call it a pebble."

"Not now," Kingsley warned. "Who else do we have?"

"There's a wizard family in West London," Hermione said, reading from a parchment. "There's no-one the group knows nearby."

"Let's go, then," said Draco. "And let one other muggle attacked me. I'll be buggered if he doesn't get a lashing."

They apparated into a road. It was deserted. Strangely deserted.

"Wands out?" Kingsley suggested. Both Hermione and Draco quietly agreed.

They knocked on the house. No answer.

Draco opened the door. They walked in, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Draco moved his hand, indicating they split up. Kingsley's rapid head-shaking shot that thought down.

They entered the living room. Empty. They searched the kitchen, and found it devoid of souls. Draco pocketed a knife. He shrugged at Hermione's questioning look.

They went up the stairs, unable to stop the creaking of the wood as they applied pressure on it. They looked into the master room. Empty. They walked down the corridor, and heard scuffling sounds ahead of them. Hermione waved her hands about, indicating she'd enter the room first.

She opened the door slowly, and then quickly entered the room, wand facing forward. She quickly swept the room with her eyes. It seemed empty, until she saw the cupboard shaking. She walked slowly towards the cupboard, with Draco behind her, and opened the door.

Two young children were crouched in the small enclosed space. They drew away sharply at the door opening.

"Please," the girl said. "Don't take us, too."

"Where are your parents?" Hermione asked.

"Taken by the police," the boy replied. "They fought them, and I saw them dragged away."

"You magical?" Draco asked.

"Yes."

"Good," he said. "Let's go."

"Wait!" the girl said. "I heard them say they're coming back, after getting back-up."

"We'll apparate you," Draco said. "Hold my arm," he said to the girl, and then looked at the boy, "and the bushy-haired girl's arm, you."

"No."

"What?' sighed Draco.

"Could you check if our parents are with the police when they come back?"

Draco stared at them.

"Nope," he said. "We're only three people, against a group of policemen? Bloody madness."

"_Please_," the kids pleaded. "We can't leave without Mum and Dad."

Draco kept silent. Kingsley looked at Hermione.

"Your call," he said.

"Why me?" she snapped.

"You're the one with knowledge of muggle police," the dark-skinned wizard replied.

"Very well," she said. "We'll look into it."

Draco swore under his breath. "Then Kingsley should take the boy and girl with him. I'm not have them crying behind my back. No argument."

Hermione agreed, and Kingsley apparated, with each child holding his arm. Draco shook his head at her.

"You couldn't say no?" he spat.

"Not really," she replied. "And I didn't see you arguing too much."

Draco didn't dignify that with an answer. He walked to the door.

"We hide outside the door," he said. "And when they come back, if the parents are still with them, which is highly doubtful, we rescue them. If reality is still at work, and they aren't, we apparate out immediately. Fair enough?"

"Perfect."

They went down to the lower floor, and headed through the main door, opening outside the house. Draco stepped out first. He turned around to say something to Hermione. Suddenly, a great weight slammed into his chest, knocking him down the steps in front of the house.

"Fu-" he shouted, before his words were silence by the crack of gunfire.

Hermione didn't waste time, sending out as many stunners as she could. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked up, trying to see the surroundings from under Hermione's flailing arms.

Two police cars were in front of them, and four police officers stood behind open doors, guns out, and pointed at them. Draco struggled to look into the cars, but couldn't tell with his upside-down view. He grabbed, Hermione, and rotated, putting himself on top.

"_Stupefy_," he roared, and repeated it twice more, knocking out the three remaining muggle enforcers, while Hermione stunned one of them.

Malfoy saw more police cars screaming down the road, and apparated away, holding Hermione as he did so.

The two of them reappeared in a park, just as they left. Draco tried to get his breath back, after casting three spells in quick succession, and then immediately apparating away.

"I know this is a long time dream of yours," Hermione remarked. "But could you get off me?"

Draco growled, and rolled off.

"Please," he said. "I bet you'd love to have have platinum blond, bushy haired, Draco-lookalikes."

"Buggered idiot," she replied. "Why'd you apparate us?"

"I checked the cars," Draco said. "They were empty. There was no sign of the parents, so we had to go."

"We did the best we could do," she said, and then dug her hand into her pocket, drawing out a parchment. She read it quickly.

"Let's go," she said. "Something's up in Diagon Alley."

"Hopefully not as bad as the police," Draco hoped.

"Worse."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Bloody hell," whispered Harry as they appeared in front of Gringotts bank.

Diagon Alley was in shambles. Shops stood in shambles, smoke and fire engulfing them. The roar of planes sounded over them, the whistling of the high speed fighter jets, and occasionally, a boom of an explosion.

"Let's go," Ron said.

They saw Aurors trying to get the people still stuck in the rubble of their buildings out. They helped out for a period of time, but the results were mostly less than successful.

"Another casualty," Ron sighed, pulling a body out of the Quiddicth store.

"They probably didn't see it coming," Harry remarked.

They noticed Hermione and Draco popping in. Greetings were quickly exchange, scars shown off (from Malfoy mainly), and they then discussed what to do.

"Ron," an Auror came up to them. "There are sightings of muggle enforcers, planning to storm the place. What do you think we should do?"

"Tell your men to hide in the rubble," Ron said. "An ambush would be a smart decision. How long do we have?"

"A few minutes says one report," replied the Auror.

"Wait for the signal, before attacking," Hermione said. "Until then, nobody moves."

"Okay."

They quickly went to their positions. Ron and Hermione stood at one side of the Alley, while Malfoy crouched under a large sign on the other end.

Harry stood on top of Gringotts, looking at the Alley from an almost bird's eye view. He watched a large group of muggle soldiers stream through the destroyed wall beside the decimated Leaky Cauldron.

Harry watched silently, waiting for them to continue to slowly go through the alley. Seriously, who goes in a new environment in such circumstances, with no knowledge of the environment?

The whole group were in the alley, but Harry continued to wait for the opportune moment. Just when they were right between the two groups. Wait for it... _wait for it_... wait...

Now! He sent out a blazing trail of red light into the sky. The soldiers looked up in shock, and aimed their guns at him.

Streams of light blasted out from both sides of the alley, slamming into the soldiers. Harry sent a few of his own to the group. The soldiers turned and shot in all directions, but it was too late, they lost their heads in the panic.

Harry walked swiftly towards Ron.

"How many killed on our side?" he asked.

"Five killed, three severely injured," Ron replied. "But the injuries are nothing our healers can't fix."

"What about the muggles?" Harry asked.

"Twelve dead, and twenty captured," Hermione replied.

"What should we do with them?" Draco asked.

"Send them back," Harry replied. "After interrogating them on their other operations."

"What?" Draco spat. "Let them loose?"

"Do you have a better suggestion?" Harry countered. "We can't take them as prisoners. Not now. Perhaps, when we make a proper prison, we'll start."

They started to ask the captured soldiers on information, while Harry started to warn them to leave their posts.

"Should I ever see you lot again," he sneered. "I'll make the last few minutes of your life hell. We know who you are," he tapped his wand, "and it'll be better if you leave the army, and never bother us again."

"Harry," Ron said, waving a parchment at him. "We're lucky that there was a superior officer with these muggles captured. We got a list of other targets from him. Most have already been attacked, except for two. They're in process of being taken now."

Harry quickly looked at the list, and dropped the parchment.

"I've got to go," he said, turning around.

"Harry, wait!" Ron shouted. "What's wrong?"

"Cho's a target," he said. "I have to go help her."

"Won't you need back-up?" Ron asked.

"Take a group of Aurors to save one person?" Harry shook his head. "No, the other attack's a bigger issue."

"What?" Hermione joined in. "You think we'll leave you on your own?"

"Well," Harry muttered. "Cho wasn't a friend of you two."

"But you are," she replied. "And you aren't going alone."

"Draco," Ron said. "Go with the Aurors, will you?"

"Sure," Draco replied. "Best of luck."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They apparated into the hospital, with Harry guiding his friends to the location.

"It looks fine," Harry said, as he saw the hustle and bustle of the doctors, nurses, and patients moving about.

"It's a muggle hospital," Hermione said. "It might be a covert operation."

"Then ours must be, too," said Ron. "Until they notice our presence, of course."

"Lead the way, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry led them through the hospital towards Cho's office. As they saw the door down the corridor, they saw a three people trying to knock the door down. Harry dragged the other two to the side.

"Looks like we're late," he said. "Any suggestions?"

"Why doesn't she just apparate out?" Ron asked.

"She leaves her wand at home," replied Harry. "They don't know she's a witch."

"Damn," Hermione whispered. "Makes things difficult. Let's not waste more time."

She ran down the corridor. Ron and Harry quickly followed. They reached the office door as it was broken down. Hermione waved her wand, disarming one of the muggle law enforcers.

Harry saw Cho immediately. She was standing behind her desk, frantically dialing a telephone. One of the muggles pointed a gun at her.

"Get down!" Harry screamed.

_Boom!_

Harry watched in horror as Cho clutched her chest, looked up in shock, and then fall backwards to the ground. He quickly turned and disarmed the shooter. He must've put too much force into the spell, as the muggle flew back, slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch. Harry didn't notice Ron disarming the last muggle, instead running around the desk.

Cho lay on the ground, expressionless eyes gazing at the ceiling. Harry crouched beside her.

"Cho!" he yelled. Getting no answer, he started shaking her. "_Cho!_" He grew frantic, trying to feel a pulse. His hands were shaking too hard to notice if one was present.

"Harry," Hermione said, behind him. "She's... gone."

"No she's not, you idiot," Harry spat savagely, still shaking Cho's unmoving body. "She's just unconcious."

"Harry," Hermione said forcefully, grabbing his shoulder. "Let go."

Harry listened to her, and got up.

"We'll have to get her out," he said quickly. "We can't leave her here."

"We won't," Ron said, keeping his wand on the muggles. "What do we do with this lot?"

"Kill them," he replied.

"_What_?"

"You heard me," Harry said simply.

"We can't," Ron said.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" a green light engulfed one of the muggles. "See?" Harry shrugged. "Wasn't so hard."

"What the buggering hell are you doing?" Ron shouted.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Harry roared, and and screamed once more.

"Harry, please," Hermione stammered, tears in her eyes. "What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing," he replied, in an unusually calm voice. "They couldn't be allowed to live. Not after what they did to Cho.

"Could one of you side-apparate Cho?" he asked. "I'm not feeling too well."

Without waiting for a reply, he popped out of the room.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively, sticking her head around the door of his bedroom.

"Hmm?" Harry asked. He was standing next to the window, staring aimlessly at the school grounds.

"Are you alright?" she queried.

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"When you do," she said, "I'm here for you."

"Okay."

The door shut.

Harry stood there, not noticing the time passing, except for the dull throbbing pain in his legs. The door opened up again.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?" Harry didn't turn around.

"I came to see how you're doing."

"As you can see," Harry replied, "I'm magnificient. Goodbye."

"I'm not leaving."

"I rather think you are."

"_No_," Ron argued. "You can't be left alone. How are you?"

"Doing splendid," Harry retorted. "For one seeing a friend get killed, an innocent one."

"It wasn't your fault," Ron said.

"It was," Harry countered. "But it was even more the muggles' fault. They can't be reasoned with, those monsters."

"Harry, we are at war," Ron said soothingly. "These things happen. You can't call all the muggles that."

"These things, apparently, mainly happen to me. Look," Harry continued, "I'd rather be alone." He still didn't bother to look at Ron.

Thus, he didn't notice Ron walk up to him, and turn him around.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Ron said. "Believe me. But we can't let you break away from us. We need you."

"I can do this anymore," Harry shuddered. "Next time, it'll be you or Hermione."

"If it will be, it was meant to be," Ron said. "We can't live in fear of what we can't control."

"I'm scared, Ron," Harry whispered, tears in his eyes. "They outnumber us by so _many_."

Ron drew Harry into a hug.

"We'll get out of this," Ron said. "I promise you."

* * *

A/N: Harry may have acted irrationally, but he has displayed a dark streak in canon, like attempting the Cruciatus curse on Lestrange when Sirius was killed. 


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

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* * *

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Chapter 15  
Tests, Morals and Meetings

_"As cliche as it sounds," a voice said. "You have one more test, to see if you've taken in our lessons."_

_"Unexpected," Harry said sarcastically. "Can I remove this cloth covering my eyes?"_

_"Not yet, Mr. Potter," said the voice. Damn! Where was it coming from? "You have to pass the first stage blindfolded." Damn again._

_"You have to proceed through a path without the use of your eyes," the voice said. "The dangers that come will be of no importance. How you deal with it, is. No use of magic enabling you to see through the cloth is allowed, or you fail the whole thing."_

_"Couldn't make it more difficult, could you?" Harry asked._

_"Don't concern yourself with that," the voice said. "The path is straight. Best of luck."_

_"What?" exclaimed Harry. "No other hints?"_

_No answer. Oh well, time to move on, Harry thought._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_I took a few steps forward, to test it out. Nothing happened._

_I walked onwards, trying to feel out the air around me, like the professors taught me. So far, I was alone. That, or I couldn't pick up what was present._

_Swoosh! I felt the air around my left cheek move as something flew right past me, at a high speed. An arrow._

_I quickly raised my wand, and held it up. What spell to use? There were so many possibilities, yet nothing stood out. I didn't even know what I faced._

_I put my wand in my pocket, after performing a quick spell, and instead raised my sword. It seemed more effective at that moment._

_I walked down the path again. I needed to 'sense' my surroundings, like they taught me. That was obvious. I held my breath and felt the air around me._

_Silence. Nothing. Wait..._

_I jumped to my side, as another arrow was sent to where I was previously standing._

_"Very good," said the voice. "You can dodge when blind, but can you defend yourself?"_

_I heard the pops of apparating wizards, and held the hilt tighter._

_Pain suddenly exploded at the back of my head. I saw stars after being hit with a blunt object. I touched the wounded part, and felt wet blood._

_I tried to sense the magic in the air, but it was difficult, with them hitting me at all sides. I held my breath, and stood still. _

_There... I could see them, three faint outlines as they stood around me._

_One of them lunged at me, and I stepped to my right, while grabbing his outstretched arm. I pulled him to me, and then slammed the sword's hilt on his face. _

_One down._

_The other two attacked me at the same time. I grabbed one of the extended arms, while I tried to block the other's punches. I got hit in the eye, recoiling back, and letting go of the arm._

_I kicked out, hitting one's midsection. I turned to punch the other in the face. I then attacked the first, still bent over, clutching his stomach. A kick to his face, and he fell down. _

_I got hit in the back of the head, again. I stumbled onto the ground, and tried to get back up. The last standing attacker was coming too fast. I reached into my pocket, and quickly took out my wand._

_"Stupefy!"_

_All down._

_"Not bad," the voice returned. "But you had the advantage of your enemies not using their wands. Plus, they had magic obviously on them, so you could detect them. This will not be given to you in the real world. However, you did pass that stage."_

_"Continue on," the voice said. "Oh, and you can remove the blindfold."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Harry continued on, finally aided by his eyes. He didn't recognise this hallway, but he didn't need to. He walked forward, cautiously onwards, until he saw a small fire ahead of him. _

_As he approached it, the surroundings changed into an outdoor environment. The pale moon hung above him in a vast grassland, a few trees standing around._

_A small group of Death Eaters stood around the fire. He ran ahead, and they apparated off before he got there. But a small clearing was ablaze in front of him. The fire spread slowly into the centre, which at the moment wasn't burning._

_In the middle of the clearing stood a young child, and a grown man._

_"Look at them," the voice said. "One is innocent, while the other has commited heinous acts, including murdering an entire family. All innocent. Do you rescue them?"_

_"Of course," Harry said, rushing forward._

_"Not so fast," the voice hissed. "The innocent is not what he seems to be at first glance. Look harder."_

_Harry stared at him, trying to see where he'd seen this face before. A pensieve, Dumbledore..._

_"Do you know, now?" asked the voice._

_"Tom Riddle," replied Harry. "As a kid."_

_"Yes, your infamous Dark Lord himself," said the voice. "The question now is, do you rescue them?"_

_Harry stood still. Thoughts rushed through his head. Why should he help them? What purpose would it serve? The murderer deserved this, and Voldemort **was** Voldemort._

_"It's not that difficult," the voice spoke softly. "We are dealing with the worst of society. One who has harmed others, and the other who will harm many. Leave them to their own doom."_

_"Am I the right authority to judge that?" Harry stammered._

_"Does it matter?" asked the voice. "It would nevertheless be the right path. To let them go would result in you condemning others to death. Let them die."_

_Harry stood in indecision, watching the fire rise higher, and move futher towards the centre. He saw the murderer remain still, eyes emotionless. The young Tom Riddle crouched on the ground, curled up, trying to draw away from the ever coming fire. His eyes were filled with tears, the eyes, and tears, reflecting the flickering flames around him._

_Harry decided what to do. He raised his wand._

_"You would rescue those who didn't deserve it?" asked the voice incredulously. "Those, when in your position, chose to kill the innocent? Let them burn!"_

_Harry ignored the voice, whose volume increased as he waved his wand, swearing at him to leave them be._

_The fire subsided slowly, and then vanished._

_Harry's surroundings flickered, and then changed to a more recognizable one. One of his professors stood in front of him._

_"It felt so real," Harry gasped._

_"As it should've," said the professor, "for it to be effective."_

_"Did I pass?" Harry asked._

_"You passed the first test."_

_"And the second?"_

_"There is no pass nor fail to that one," replied the professor._

_"What was the point of it, then?" Harry asked._

_"A man's true self is revealed only with adversity," replied the professor. "Today, you learnt something of yourself that you never knew before. Why did you spare them?"_

_"It wasn't my position to condemn them to death," Harry said. "Also, that Tom Riddle was innocent. He hadn't done anything, yet."_

_"And thus, we've entered a most complicated philosophical question," remarked the professor. "Can a man be punished for what he will do?"_

_"I don't know," Harry said._

_"And there is no clear answer," the professor said. "Your final lesson is that there is no black and white in this world. Fighting Voldemort is an easy choice. But you'll be faced with far less clear problems in your life. There is no standard way to live your life. You decided to spare Voldemort, at the risk of all the others he'd kill. On the other hand, he was an innocent at that moment."_

_Harry shuddered, the weight of the question weighing heavily on his mind. Did he choose the right one?_

_"Cheer up, Harry," the professor smiled. "This was an artificial setting. Your choice made no difference to anyone."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Albus?" Harry asked. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course, Harry my boy," Dumbledore replied. "It's not like I have somewhere to go."

Harry smiled uneasily.

"How are you coping being Headmaster?" asked Dumbledore.

"As best as I can," answered Harry. "Not to mention trying to run the wizarding world from here."

"Such a large responsibility is unenviable," the former headmaster noted. "What happened to the remnants of the Ministry?"

"Some have made it here, mostly lower-level people," Harry said. "But they're useless."

"Some things haven't changed," chuckled Dumbledore. "More importantly, however, how are _you_?"

"Not very good, really," Harry said. "I just killed three muggle attackers, when it wasn't needed."

"I'm sure there's an explanation to that," said Dumbledore.

Harry explained what happened in Cho's office.

"What's bothering you?" Dumbledore asked.

"The fact that I killed three men when incapacitating them was an option," Harry said in anger. "I became what I hate."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because... they killed when they didn't have to."

"So they were partially to blame?" asked Dumbledore.

"Not for my actions, no," Harry said. "They were killers, though."

"Yes they were," Dumbledore then sighed. "Listen, Harry. I will not tell you what you did was right. But you have to seek the root of your problems. Other things are bothering you."

"Such as?"

"For one, you are still affected by the loss of your past," Dumbledore said. "Two, you've now been placed in a war, and to top all that, a friend gets murdered right in front of you. Most people would've snapped long before you did."

"Doesn't make it right," Harry argued.

"No, it most certainly does not," Dumbledore said. "But you have to help yourself before helping others."

"I've been trying," Harry said. "And Cho's been helping."

"I know, but concentrate on that for now," said the former headmaster. "There is no prophecy that links you to this world's disasters. You have an obligation to your own life, too. What's been bothering you?"

"Firstly, my memory loss," Harry said. "I've been bothered by a memory with Polanar cursing me. It's important, but I can't figure out why."

"Secondly?"

"Polanar, himself," Harry sighed. "What he's up to is a mystery. He's a danger, _that_ I'm sure of."

"Anything else?"

Harry mumbled something.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," Dumbledore said.

"I said," Harry took a deep breath. "I've been having feelings for Hermione ever since I came here."

"Ah," Dumbledore laughed with the twinkle in his eye. "Far more difficult than everything else, isn't it?"

"You're bleedin right," Harry said. "Sorry."

"Deal with it," Dumbledore said.

"I have been," Harry argued.

"What have you done about it?" queried Dumbledore. "Exactly?"

Harry remained silent.

"Not much, I gather," said Dumbledore. "Just solve it. For better or worse, when it's over, you'll feel better."

Dumbledore sighed again, the twinkle now gone.

"I know the reason you've been having difficulty is beyond your control," he said. "You were raised in an environment where love was a mystery to you. You haven't had many people that loved you, have you? I truly am sorry for that."

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said. "But sometimes I wish I had another life. Something far more quiet."

"We all do, the ones who experience such difficulty," Dumbledore said. "But we don't have the power to change our existence. We do have have another power, though."

"What?"

"To change what goes on in our lives," said Dumbledore.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry was marking papers in his office when a squeaky voice sounded in the empty room.

"Mr. Potter, sir?" a house-elf asked nervously.

"Yes?" Harry replied.

"Trinky made error while cleaning your room, made wrong spell," the house-elf shuddered. "And blew hole in wall."

"That's okay, Trinky," said Harry. "Why don't you just fix the hole?"

"I was going to," said Trinky. "But I found something behind it."

"What?"

"I don't know what it is."

"Show me," Harry said.

He followed her to his room, where she went in and pointed at what she was talking about.

"A pensieve?" Harry asked. "Was it just laying there in the wall?"

"Yes," the house-elf said. "It was in a small hole in the wall."

Harry looked at the hole, blackened wall around it. He saw the pensieve, standing alone in a small gap in the wall. He looked around, and noticed that it interior of the hole made out of wood. Somehow, he realised that the pensieve must've been his. Otherwise, why was it in his room?

"That's okay Trinky," Harry said. "Could you leave now?"

The house-elf obeyed, mumbling about cleaning up later on. Harry stared at the pensieve, wondering why he'd have another. Only one reason could come to his mind. He had memories here he wanted no-one else to see. Ron nor Hermione mentioned it, so they must not even know. Still, he'd have to be quite paranoid to have _two_ pensieves, since everyone assumed there was personal stuff in a pensieve.

What did he need to hide, that he wanted nobody else to ever see?

A knock sounded at the door. He jumped in shock, and rushed to cover up the scene.

"One moment," he yelled.

He waved his wand about. There, back to normal. He covered the hole, and kept the pensieve there.

He went and opened the door, letting in Hermione.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Not bad," he replied. "You?"

"Can't complain."

"How's Ron and the Weasleys doing?" he asked.

"Not great really," she said. "It's bad enough Arthur died in the Ministry attack, but that Charlie was with him, too, is devastating them. They're keeping a brave face, but Ron's shattered. He can't hide it from us."

"And to think he was consoling _me_," Harry groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I feel so guilty."

"You didn't know then," Hermione argued.

"Still, I tried to apologize," he said. "But he wouldn't listen to me."

"That's Ron," Hermione smiled weakly. "Stubborn even in mourning."

"Good man," Harry said.

"The best," she replied.

"Don't think I asked you before," Harry said, trying to act nonchalant, "but why did you two break up?"

"Too different," she said simply. "Opposites attract, but we later learnt that it's very difficult to stay together once the initial passion cools."

"How did the break-up go?"

"The actual separation went quite easily, suprisingly," Hermione said. "It was the fights before the realisation it wasn't meant be that was so hard."

"Are you dating anyone now?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione said. "War getting in the way of things."

"What about Micheal?" he asked.

"Oh, it was just one date," Hermione said. "He was a good chap, but I didn't know him that well."

"Was?"

"He did work in the Ministry," she said. "I haven't seen him after the bombings. He might have perished in them."

"Hopefully not."

"Hopefully not," she agreed. "So, who exactly are you going to meet up with?"

"Some foreign magical governments are sending delegates to see how to deal with the problem," he said. "Might be helpful."

"We'll need all the help we can get."

"That we will," he concurred.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Hello there, Dr. McGuinty," a voice said warmly.

"Oh Lord..." stammered the scientist. "What the hell do you want?"

"Come on, doctor," Harry replied. "Is it polite to talk to an old friend like that?"

"Get out!"

"And I thought we bonded when the guns were pointed at us," Harry sighed, mocking the scientist. "Never mind that. I had a few questions."

"Quickly ask them," the scientist said, "so that you could be gone."

"I thought you said it would be a long time before the treatment for preventing magic was available?" asked Harry.

"I did, but the government didn't care," said McGuinty. "They rushed it."

"How effective is it?"

"Not very," admitted the scientist. "But it could stop magic temporarily, for some months in a child."

"What about the dangers to our lives?" Harry asked.

"An insignificantly small danger," McGuinty said. "Not like what we'd feel with..."

"With?" Harry asked. "With what, McGuinty?"

"Nothing."

Harry grabbed the scientist, and threw him onto the wall, holding him up with his hands on his shirt.

"Don't lie to me," he growled. "What danger is there?"

"Put me down," McGuinty said fearfully. "I'll tell you."

Harry complied.

"There were many chemicals used, mixed along with magic," the scientist explained. "A few had the unfortunate side-effect of affeting non-magical people."

"How?"

"Well, if adminstered in the body, the casting of a magical spell somehow hurts muggles (as you call us)," McGuinty clarified. "The larger the dose, the more dangerous the outcome. Death will occur if too much of this is given. The simple presence of magic in the air, for example a spell cast in the air, not necessarily aimed at the muggle in question, can kill the muggle."

Harry sucked in a deep breath. This could be disastrous.

"How much would be fatal?" he asked.

"We haven't actually tested on a human," Dr. McGuinty chuckled darkly. "But a few teaspoons is enough, depending on tests done on animals. Whether injected or applied through the mouth, the result was the same."

"You got rid of it, right?" Harry queried.

"No," said McGuinty. "I wanted to study how it affects us."

"Idiot," Harry snarled. "Get rid of it. Quickly. If wizards find out about this, who knows what'll happen?"

McGuinty was silent.

"Oh no," Harry sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "What happened now?"

"A few supply trucks carrying it mysteriously vanished before the fighting began."

"Who did it?"

"Wizards," McGuinty replied. "The MI5 magical branch was sure of this."

"How much was stolen?"

"The supply was in the tonnes."

"_For the love of everything good!_" Harry shouted. "Tonnes! You have something that can kill muggles, and you make a humongous amount of them, just to get it stolen?"

"It had to be studied," argued the scientist.

"Fool," spat Harry. "One thing people in your work fail to understand is that not everything should be studied. Some things are better off removed from existence. You have no idea what you may have done."

McGuinty's telephone rang, and he looked at it. He turned back to where Harry was, but the room was empty, except for himself.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry sat in his private quarters, late in the night. The pensieve lay in front of him, neither liquid nor solid white swirls floating about. He took a deep breath, and jumped in.

_Harry fell into a familiar hall. He remembered this scene, it was the same place he went to in the other pensieve. In fact, it was the same party was going on._

_He saw himself standing alone, right where he was the last time. This time, however, the younger Harry seemed a bit distracted. He noticed the younger self staring at something, and he turned to see what._

_He saw Hermione standing by the drinks table. She was standing close to the same handsome man, laughing, in the same manner, at what he was saying, her arm still on his shoulder. _

_This memory was somewhat different. The memory Harry was only interested in Hermione. He was staring at her. Hermione giggled and playfully pushed the handsome man away. The younger Harry's jaw tightened as he clenched a fist._

_The older Harry was puzzled. Why was this Harry bothered?_

_He saw his younger self turn to see Ron with the witch sitting beside him, Ginny dancing, and Angelina sitting on Fred's lap. He waved his wand, and sped through the memory, realising what occured afterwards was the same as before. He waved his wand again to start the next memory._

_The environment appeared again, showing Hogwarts. Harry saw himself flying on the broomstick. A group of children were flying with him. The viewer Harry was floating right beside Harry. He felt weird, as if he was flying himself._

_"Do the Feint!" one shouted, with the others joining in demand._

_"I don't think that's smart, encouragng you like that," the younger Harry said. "I'll do something else."_

_"Please?" begged the students._

_"Sorry, but n..." he stopped upon seeing Hermione walking into the pitch. She waved at him, and he waved back._

_"Okay," Harry said. "Just once."_

_The students cheered._

_He flew up high into the air, and stopped. He suddenly pushed down on the head of the broomstick, and it quickly sped in that direction. He pushed on the broom, increasing the speed as quickly as possible._

_Soon the world was a blur to him as he flew at an unimaginably high speed. He increased his speed some more, and the wind roared as it passed his ears. The world seemes to disappear around him, he couldn't hear anything but the wind's howl, couldn't see much apart from colours due the air blowing into his eyes._

_He saw the green expanse of the pitch rise fast towards him. He held on the broom, still going to meet it. As soon as he could distinguish the individual blades of grass, he wrenched hard on the broom, pulling its head up. His whole body bent backwards due the sudden change of direction._

_He heard someone scream._

_"That was bloody brilliant!" a boy roared._

_Harry descended to the ground._

_"I think I hurt my back," he groaned._

_"Harry!" Hermione yelled. "How are you?"_

_He got up quickly. "Just fine," he said. "Nice feint, wasn't it?"_

_She slapped him on the shoulder. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"_

_"I'm fine," he said. "I'll clean myself in the showers. I'll see you at the castle."_

_After she left, the younger Harry fell into the arms of the students. _

_"Get me to Madam Pomfrey, will you?" he asked._

_The memory ended, and another started._

_Harry fell into his office, and saw his younger self reading a letter. He walked around the desk, until he was standing behind him. _

Harry,

I went around Scotland, and talked to some of the older locals in towns. I've found out Paul's last name. It's Anar. He's half-French, too, which might explain why there's no-one who remembers anyone looking like Polanar attending Hogwarts.

Regards

_The letter was unsigned. _

_The memory ended there, and another began. He saw himself standing in Hermione's office. She was seated, writing on some parchment._

_"Hermione?" the memory Harry said._

_"Yes?" she replied._

_"Would you like to go out, sometime?" he said._

_"Where'd you like to go?" she asked, still scribbling on the papers._

_"I mean," Harry paused. "Like on a date?"_

_The scratching of the quill on parchment became silent._

_"Excuse me?" she asked, an unsure look on her face._

_"Would you like to go out on a date with me?" he asked._

_She was silent, clearly thinking of what to say._

_"You could just say no," the memory Harry remarked after a period of time._

_"It's not that," she said. "It's just..."_

_"Yes?"_

_"Do you really want to go through this path?" she asked._

_"I don't understand."_

_"I mean..." Hermione paused. "I mean, do you want to risk what we have now?"_

_"What are we going to risk?" Harry asked._

_"The break-up with Ron was difficult," she said. "I'm surprised we got out still being friends. I don't want to ever risk losing you, Harry."_

_"But we're different," he insisted. "Just because you and Ron didn't work out doesn't mean..."_

_"It doesn't mean we won't," she finished. "But there's a chance we won't, anyways. I can't do anything that may lead to that."_

_"So it's a no?" he asked. The future Harry watching this shook his head. Wasn't that obvious?_

_"I'm sorry, but yes," Hermione said, "it's a no."_

_The memory suddenly ended._

Harry stepped out of the pensive, and collapsed on the nearby couch.

He chuckled darkly when he thought of Polanar's real name. How original.

Remembering the other scenes quickly ended his laughs. While surprising, they made sense. He couldn't explain why exactly he had feelings for Hermione. Even when he just arrived, or lost his memories, he acted like an idiot in front of her.

He never liked her that way before. It was all about Ginny during the war against Voldemort. It was deceptively simple. He had those feelings for quite some time (starting after the Voldemort demise). It puzzled him, however, to think he was still affected by the feelings by whoever he was before the change. His memories might have been gone, but his attractions weren't? Strange, how strange.

As he walked into his bedroom, he wondered if liking someone actually counted if it occured before an amnesia?

It also opened a whole new problem with Hermione. She would shoot him down if he suggested the same thing. Since she made no mention of them dating (nay, no mention of his attraction towards her at all), nothing changed. Did he want to risk that, or move on?

As he lay on his bed after he dimmed the lights, Harry wondered if finding the pensieve was a good thing after all.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

As Harry walked to have lunch, he heard shouts coming from the hall.

"What's the commotion about?" Harry called, storming into the Great Hall.

He walked in to see a large number of people standing, shouting at one another.

"Silence!" he roared. After a few seconds, the hall was quiet.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Ron answered, "Carter's suggested a few things, and it's bleedin' pissed everyone off."

"Carter?" asked Harry. "Who?"

"Quentin Carter, one of the Minister's secretarys," Hermione explained. She pointed at who she was speaking about.

"Ah yes," Harry said. "We've met. What's going on?"

"Well," Carter spluttered. "We need new people to lead the wizarding public."

"Who might that be?" Harry said.

"Those who remain from the ministry," Carter quickly replied.

"Namely, you," hissed Ron.

"Why do you think you're fit to lead?" Harry asked, coldly.

"The Ministry is the rightful government of the people," Carter said smoothly. "We haven't been completely destroyed by the muggles."

"But you have been destroyed," said Harry. "Not to mention that this is a war that you played a part in igniting."

"You want to lead?" scoffed Carter. "You're a headmaster, and a new one at that. Don't fool yourself. Politics is far more complex than you think."

"You are causing divisions, at a time where it is least needed," sneered Harry. "Either shut up, or leave."

"What are you going to do about it?" Carter spat.

Harry sighed. Such childishness really wasn't needed.

"Get out," he said.

"What?"

"You heard me," Harry replied. "Take all of your _supporters_, and leave Hogwarts. It's the last standing structure that you haven't buggered up, and I won't let you mess this up, too. I want you gone within the hour."

With that, Harry turned and stormed out of the Great Hall.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry stood in the classroom, in front of a large group of people. He saw Hermione and Ron among the recognizable people sitting in the back of the room.

"Welcome," Harry said. "I brought you all here today to discuss international assistance for us."

"I am Louis," a wizard said, standing up. "I represent the French Ministry. We will not stand by and leave you on your own."

"That is appreciated," Harry said.

"I'm representing the U.S.," another wizard said. "We offer assistance, but we can't be public about it."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Because," said the Japanese representative, "we can't risk starting conflicts on our soils as well. These events here in Britain could ignite a World War between wizards and muggles."

"Yes," agreed the Nigerian representative. "It's extremely difficult keeping the existence of wizards secret while there's a war going on."

"What will you have me do?" snarled Harry. "Lay down and allow them to destroy our entire infrastructure?"

"No," said Alejandro, Spain's envoy. "Keep low while we try to get our muggle governments to hold back your muggle rulers. They will not attack forever."

"Just until there's none of us left to attack," Harry replied. "You are asking us to do nothing."

"We will take in wizards and witches who wish to leave the fighting," Louis said. "All of continental Europe is open to you."

"Many have already taken that offer," Harry noted. "And some of them went across the Atlantic. The rest of us remaining, however, will not leave. This is our country, damn it, and I for one will never step out of it."

"You are too weak to fight them," the German envoy said. "They outnumber you, and you said you've lost part of your population."

"So we shouldn't defend ourselves?" scoffed Harry. "This is our land, as much as theirs, and I'm not going to go underground. I may go down, but I'll take as much of their troops with them along, too."

"Harry, listen!" Alejandro insisted. "Your actions may decide the fate of us all. Magic has been far outstripped by technology. We are on broomsticks, while they are on _Eurofighter Typhoons_! You can decide to lose a battle, or start a war that can destroy every wizarding nation in the world."

"You're exaggerating," Harry said.

"You know I'm not," shot back the Spaniard. "These muggles are divided on every major issue, but if it's a muggle versus wizard conflict, you'll be surprised how fast they'll band together. Soldiers, military equipment and humanitarian aid are flowing into Britain from all corners of the Earth. They fear a magical victory will influence wizards in their land to overthrow them."

"Do not be the reason why we return to the persecution of magical folk," the American wizard said. "Too many of us died to get out of that."

Harry remained silent, unsure of what to decide. How far was he willing to go? He hadn't thought of the wider implications of fighting the muggles in Britain. But they couldn't sit back and get steamrolled. What to do?

"I won't go public," Harry promised. "But we will not sit back. As long as they don't escalate it, we won't be making any headlines in your papers."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Harry?" asked someone at the door.

"Do come in, Louis,"offered Harry. "Please sit."

"I have to head back to Paris, soon," the French representative said.

"Thank you for your time," Harry said. "What have you found about Paul Anar?"

"He attended Beauxbatons," Louis said. "But had lived in Scotland since he was born up to his eleventh year."

"Why didn't he go to Hogwarts, then?" askedHarry.

"His French mother wanted this," Louis explained. "It seems like they agreed he'd live in Scotland, and study in France."

"Sounds difficult," Harry remarked.

"Well, he's fluent in both French and English," said Louis. "So it turned out well for him."

"Seems so," Harry said. "Thanks for your time, and the information."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Someone knocked on Hermione's door.

"Come in," she called.

Harry's head stuck inside.

"Do you have a moment?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "Come on in."

Harry entered, and stood in front of her desk. She was looking around her desk for something.

"Yes?" she said.

"Why didn't you tell me I asked you out?" he asked.

She stopped searching.

"How'd you know that?" she asked, looking up at him.

"It was in my pensieve," he replied. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I have?" she said. "You asked me out, I said no. I see nothing interesting about it. Do you?"

"Well, I would've wanted to know," he said, getting defensive.

"Why?" she asked, looking hard at him.

He tried to look calm, didn't look at her in the eye. He paid attention to her pictures, lifting one of them.

"It would've been important to me," he said. "Something about who I was."

"I see," she said. "Now you know."

"Now I know," he repeated. "But Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still feel that way?" he asked tentatively.

She sat in thought. "Doesn't matter, does it?" she asked back.

"I don't follow," Harry said in confusion.

"You don't feel that way, still," she said. "Do you?"

Harry hesitated. "Not really," he then said.

"Then how I feel doesn't have anything to do with it," she explained.

"It does seem as such," he mumbled.

He didn't like the shrewd manner in which she looked at him. Almost as if she was reading his mind. He had to check his Occlumency sheilds to make sure she wasn't.

"Anyways," he said. "I best be off."

"Bye," she said.

Harry walked to the door.

"Harry?"

"Yes?" he asked, as he turned around.

"If there's something you want to say," she said, "feel free to say it."

"No, no," he waved. "It's nothing at all."**

* * *

**

A/N: Before anyone says so, Beauxbatons was a both boys and girls school in the book version of _Goblet of Fire_. I'm disregarding the movie on this one.

In case anyone was wondering, a Eurofighter Typhoon is a European fighter aircraft.


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever. **

A/N: I'm sorry. It's been months since an update, and I broke my own guidelines. Apologies. I have been quite busy, but I'll try to get chapters coming. I've got the winter holidays, and I hope to write furiously.

**

* * *

**

Chapter 16  
Deeper Underground

_Harry sat in the grass outside Hogwarts. He was alone, apart from Remus beside him, due to the summer holidays. He watched the lake ahead of him, reflecting the bright sun above them. The trees swayed around him with the same breeze that blew his robes softly, that moved through his hair. He shut his eyes, enjoying the lovely feeling of the sun's heat on his face._

_"What are you thinking about?" asked Remus._

_"Sirius."_

_Remus remained quiet, giving Harry the silence he wanted._

_"I keep thinking about the scene in Snape's pensieve," Harry said after a while._

_"I would think you of all people," said Remus, "would understand never to pass judgement on someone based on a single event. The way people prejudge you, Boy Who Lived and all."_

_"I'm not judging my father," Harry said, but relented under the raised eyebrow from Remus. "Okay, maybe I am. But Snape was mistreated, and Dad told Mum it was just because he existed."_

_"Snape also attacked James, and any other Marauder, when he was in the stronger side," Remus said. "I never thought I'd say this, but do not think that Snape was innocent."_

_"I don't," Harry assured him. "But I always thought that my parents were people above the use of humiliation. Everyone told me they were so great."_

_"You are limited by your lack of experience with them," Remus said. "You never saw them, so you made them in your head what you saw them as. _

_"Tell me," he continued, "what if you had seen me or Sirius do that to Snape?"_

_"I don't know," said Harry. "Maybe that he did something to you previously, or you had lost your tempers..."_

_"Exactly, Harry!" Remus said. "You know us, and one incident wouldn't destroy your relationship with me, and especially with Sirius. But you know nothing about your parents. That lone scene was able to shatter your whole illiusion of what he was to you. You doubted everything you thought of him."_

_"It's not my fault," Harry said softly._

_"No it's not," Remus agreed. "You were separated from those who knew your parents, and loved them."_

_"I wish someone could tell me who James and Lily Potter were," Harry sighed._

_"I'll tell you," Remus offered. "Ask what you wish."_

_Harry didn't know what to ask. Remus probably detected that, as he spoke instead._

_"First thing you should be aware of, despite it's apparent obviousness," he said, " is that they were normal people, which means they were flawed. James had his ego, Lily for a time, her insecurity as a muggle-born. Times were rough then, with Voldemort's rise, and being a muggle-born made Lily quite a shy person for her first few years as a student. In her fourth year, however, she became that strong witch we later knew her to be. That very same one that James fell for._

_"James, Sirius, Peter and I all did things that, in hindsight, should never have been done," Remus admitted. "The four of us were arrogant in that regard, as if rules were beneath us, and for me, an added desperation to be accepted."_

_Harry said nothing, listening to his former teacher with rapt attention._

_"But don't take this to mean they were bad people," Remus said, uncharacteristically fierce. "James embraced me, a werewolf, with no questions. In this world, that's amazing. He would take my secret to the grave, and would defend me to that extent, too. Me, a boy who was unacceptable to everyone I knew after the bite, was immediately befriended by your father and Sirius. _

_"I'll admit," he continued, "that James was somewhat arrogant, and would curse other students for the heck of it, but they were usually harmless, and mostly pranks. I will not defend him in that respect, nor myself and Sirius, who helped him, whether by actually assisting him, or by remaining silent._

_"But troubles started in Hogwarts, with students attacking one another. Alot of it were first or second year muggleborns being attacked by purebloods years older than them. The teachers were unable to find out who the culprits were, and the muggle-borns grew quite scared. James stood up to help them. Whenever they accused a pureblood of attacking them, and the pureblood got away due to lack of witnesses, strange 'accidents' happened to them," Remus laughed. "It became personal to James. You should've seen him. His determination to exact revenge, and a more lethal punishment than the initial attack. I always suspected Dumbledore knew it was us, but he never stopped us."_

_"I never knew," Harry said. "What about Mum?"_

_"What about her?" asked Remus rhetorically. "She was a great witch. She defended me to the death. I gather you remember me tell Sirius in the Shrieking Shack in your third year that he and James suspected me as the spy?" at Harry's nod, he continued, "Sirius later told me that Lily refused to believe that. He told me that he never saw her fight James like that before. I don't know if he was serious or joking, but he said he feared that they might've have caused a severing of their relationship."_

_Remus looked away, and Harry pretended to rub his eyes._

_"Your parents were great people, by all standards," Remus said. "They weren't the greatest people I ever met, but they were very close to that person."_

_"Dumbledore?" asked Harry._

_"No," Remus shook his head. "You."_

_"Wha-," Harry couldn't form the words. "But I was never as good as you described Mum and Dad."_

_"Sorry, Harry, but I must disagree," Remus said firmly, __his eyes alight. "Your life has been, for a lack of a better word, hell. Yet look who've you become, a man who'd do anything for what he believes is right."_

_"We all do that," Harry said. "You did, Dumbledore, Mum, Dad..."_

_"Yet none of us faced what you've faced in your school years," Remus argued. "Even Dumbldore had far more quiet school years, despite losing his entire family, bar Aberforth, when he was in his fifth year. But you, you faced the Dark Lord in your first year! A basilisk, on your own, in your second. And that was just the tip of the iceberg._

_"The most impressive thing is," Remus said, "is that while you've been devoid of love for so long, you still show it to others. You love Ron and Hermione, Hagrid, and even accepted me and Sirius! People with a fraction of your problems have become dark, or bitter on life, but you? You endure."_

_Harry felt his face warm up, and observed the grass, not looking at Remus' eyes._

_"Perhaps in comparison to your high standards, your parents weren't that great," mused Remus. "But under those same standards, most humans, magical or muggle, would fail miserably."_

_"You're exaggerating," Harry said._

_"I assure you, I'm not," Remus said. "I wish I raised you as a guardian, raise you with the love you deserved. But we can't change the past. All in all, though, I think we can all be very pleased with how you turned out. People like you are far beyond rare."_

Harry's eyes opened, and he saw the dark room around him. For an extremley short time, he didn't know where he was. He rolled around in his bed, and shuddered as the tears streamed down his face.

How he missed Remus. Sirius. Dumbledore. Once again, he fell into the wishful desire to have known his parents, or at least remember them.

He rolled around again, trying to forget what he dreamt about.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry sat in his office, Ron and Hermione seated in front of him. They had a few things to discuss. Ron still had that haunted look in his face, but he insisted that he join the conversation.

"So I told them this nonsense about magical potential," Ron said, smiling grimly, "and told them to search for Polanar and Sutherland, instead of you."

"Who's Sutherland?" asked Harry, with a grin on his face.

"Your close friend," Ron chuckled darkly. "They'll be searching for someone who doesn't exist."

"Seriously, to believe that we can tell how powerful all the magical people are," Hermione said, laughing softly, "I'm impressed you could blend in, Ron. It's difficult enough for muggles to go undercover, but I can't imagine how long you had to study muggle means."

"Quite a long time," Ron said. "I had to act like a normal muggle, which took months of intense study. Then I had to go undercover in MI5, and report to the Ministry what they were doing. But I also had to go undercover for MI5 and report to them, what I found out. Double-crossing everyone, it seemed."

Harry returned them to what the meeting was supposed to be about.

"So, how do we deal with the stolen chemicals?" he asked.

"What can we do?" Ron remarked. "If wizards had stolen them, it could be anywhere in the world right now."

"But there's a danger to the muggles if used as a weapon," said Harry.

"We have our own problems," Ron stressed. "What can we offer?"

"Perhaps we should keep an ear on the ground?" Hermione suggested. "Should we find out about anything, we'll deal with it, then. Agreed?"

Harry and Ron nodded their heads.

"To the next ..." Harry was interrupted by knocking on the door. He called out permission for entry. Draco walked in quickly.

"There's been a kidnapping," he said.

"Of whom?" Hermione asked.

"A group of wizards being held by the government," answered Draco. "Some muggle criminal is now demanding we give him what he wants, or he kills them."

"Know who he is?" asked Harry.

"He called himself the leader of the _Freshners_, but I've never heard of them," Draco said.

Ron sucked in a breath.

"I know who he is," he said. "Micheal Richardson. A head of a gangster group. I've dealt with him, going undercover in his group. He's trouble."

"How dangerous is he?" Harry asked.

"Quite," replied Ron. "He's unpredicatble, and while he isn't the smartest criminal I've seen, he has alot of firepower."

"How can we get in?" Hermione asked.

"I have someone working on the inside," offered Ron. "A witch."

"Excellent," Harry said. "We'll go in, then."

"What about the stolen chemicals?" Hermione asked.

"You have contacts still around the country?" asked Harry.

"Yes."

"Get in contact with them," he said. "Ask them to keep an ear out."

"So, you and I will go alone?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"No," said Harry. "I'm going to ask Dean and Seamus to come with us. They've gotten muggle experience, too."

"Good idea," Ron said.

"Malfoy," Harry continued. "Can you make sure things don't go wrong in our absence?"

"Sure," Draco replied.

Hermione and Ron left the room, leaving Harry with Draco. Draco remained standing, and didn't seem to be leaving.

"Was there something else you wanted to say?" Harry asked.

"No," Draco said. "I mean - yes. Why can't I come with you and Ron?"

"I need someone here, in case something happens," Harry replied.

"Is that it?" Draco asked.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "If you want to say something, then say it."

"You don't trust me," Draco said, in a rush.

"And if I don't?" Harry said calmly, but he watched Draco closely.

"Why?" Draco spluttered. "I can help..."

"No doubt you can," Harry said. "Right now, however, Dean and Seamus are coming along, and it is meant to be a stealth mission, so adding you might be too much. It's a muggle environment, too, so they'll be more handy than you would."

"You _don't_ trust me," accused Draco.

"Whether or not I do isn't important right now," Harry said.

"Ron will vouch for me," Draco argued.

"And so will Hermione, I'm sure," agreed Harry. He sighed, and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.

"Look," he said. "I don't like you."

"But I switched from being a Death Eater," Draco said.

"So did Snape."

"_How dare you_?" seethed Draco. "I stood against him in the darkest of days."

"I wasn't questioning your loyalty," Harry replied, still with that calm in his voice. "I was merely pointing the fact, for a time, Snape was with us, and I still didn't get along with him."

"But I'm trying," Draco insisted.

"Yes, you are. But do you honestly think you could wipe out our history? What went on in this very school?" asked Harry.

"I regret that," said Draco softly.

"Perhaps you do," Harry said. "But do you know what I see whenever I look at you?"

"What?"

"The bastard who gave me hell," Harry said, his voice breaking. "The twat who helped Umbridge, who helped Snape, who did his utmost effort to make my life difficult, in addition to the shite that went on in my life."

"I was young, and foolish," Draco said. "It took a long time for me to remove myself from what my father taught me."

"You might've changed," Harry said, "but, likewise, it will take a long time for me to change my perception of you, what you showed yourself to be. So will Hermione, it seems. I fear..."

"Fear what?"

"That you are putting yourself in an uneviable postion," Harry said, "trying to get me and Hermione to like you."

"Why?"

"I don't think you and I will _ever_ be friends," Harry stressed. "Perhaps we will be trusted colleagues, but throw out any illusions of us being buddy-buddy with each other. How you became close with Ron's a shocker. Be happy you could've turned one of us. The odds in that were quite long."

Draco turned on his heel and left the room. Harry sat back on his seat as the door closed with a quiet 'click', and then sighed, staring out of the window.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The four of them stood in front of the club. The sign outside showed a drawing of a naked woman, with the main areas covered with stars. Despite it being the middle of the afternoon, music blared out of it.

"Don't worry," Ron said. "It's empty now. The workers keep playing this disgusting excuse called music for their own enjoyment."

"Looks like the seedy places you see in movies," Harry noted. "Didn't know they actually existed."

"Oh they do," Ron said. "And there are worse, believe me."

"What were you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Working undercover," Ron said. "I had to get to know him, report him to the top level people if I saw anything off."

"And?"

"This guy's not that bad," Ron said. "He's small-time. Only interested in money, not power like the more dangerous ones. But it was hell. You can't imagine how much I had to drink or women I had to shag. Thankfully, I found a way to avoid the drugs. Don't think I could handle that."

"Hell?" Dean asked, bemused. "Okay, the drinks might've been too much, and I don't evny you taking the drugs, but I don't know why you're complaining about the..."

"Anyways," Ron continued. "No drinking, or anything else (sorry Dean), today. We could end up in a fight, and we have a better chance sober, and with our trousers up."

"Speaking of fighting," Harry said, "are we all armed?"

They all removed their wands to show they were.

"Who's familiar with a gun?" Ron said. Only Seamus said he was (practiced in a shooting gallery), and Ron passed a pistol to him. "Right," Ron said, "you lot are working for me, remember. Keep as silent as you can. Harry, I want you to find Lisa Turpin. She's working undercover for MI5, just like I was. Tell her everything, and make sure she knows that she is to leave to Hogwarts immediately. No need for her to stay here. Also, give her this. It's her wand. We don't normally carry it undercover. It's a risk, but one we have to take, unfortunately."

"Very well," Harry said. "If there are no further questions, shall we?"

With that, they entered the building.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They walked into a large room, with fifty or so tables. The place consisted of black walls, black ceiling and black floor, littered with colourful glitter. A large stage stood in one end.

The chairs were placed upside down on the tables. Walking by them were people, armed with mops, brooms and cloths.

At the end of the room, only one table was set. Drinks lay on it, and it was surrounded by seven or eight large men. One person was seated.

"It's like this in real life?" Harry whispered, humour in his voice. "The guy desperately wants to be in a movie."

"Shh," Ron hissed, but couldn't prevent the smile from appearing on his face.

It was true, though, about the cliché of the whole thing. The man was seated, with his chair in front of a wall, and a window (concealed by curtains) to his right. The door to the kitchens was to his left. The overhead lamps, numerous around the room, were deliberately missing above the table, allowing the man's face to be slightly concealed in darkness. You could see his face, still, so Harry guessed it was to elicit fear from the one seated across. A woman stood beside him.

Ron nudged Harry with his elbow. 'Follow her' he mouthed, nodding at the woman.

Harry had little time to argue, as she walked out the room. Harry followed her as they went through a few corridors. She made no acknowledgement of his presence. She went into the men's room, and he walked in after her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry stood with Lisa in the middle of the men's toilet. He told her of the fact that there were wizards kidnapped by Richardson. She assured him that she had no idea about that.

"How do you know that they're here?" she asked. "Richardson owns many safehouses."

"Ron thinks so," he replied.

"Ron knows him far better than I do," she admitted. "He does have an underground floor in this pub, and it holds alot of his valuables."

The door of the toilet opened, and Lisa suddenly jumped on Harry. She kissed him forcefully, and he, not knowing what was happening, remained as he was.

Lisa wrapped her legs around Harry's waist and removed her lips from his, and sucked on his left ear.

"Play along," she whispered into it.

Harry saw no other alternative (didn't look for one, really), and gladly went along. He pulled her closer on him, and kissed down her neck, making her moan. Her lips returned to his, and he opened his mouth, deepening it which she quickly returned. He heard the door shut, but did not stop. After a further minute had passed, Lisa drew back, and noticed that they were alone.

"Oh," she said as she got off him. "Didn't know he left."

"I did," Harry admitted.

"Why didn't you say something?" she asked.

"And end _that_?" Harry asked incredulously.

She slapped his arm, but was grinning, too.

"Back to the discussion," she said. "What do we do?"

"Our first option's negotiations," Harry said. "We're only five against their numbers. Oh before I forgot, Ron told me to give you this," he passed a wand to her. "Second option's to fight them."

"So it's talk," she said, "and if that fails, we blow things up?"

"Yep."

"Typical men," she sniffed.

"Have you been talking to Hermione recently?" Harry asked, eyes narrowing.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry returned to the table, and immediately could feel the tense air. Seamus was glaring at Richardson, who was returning it. Dean just looked disgusted at both, and Ron looked bemused to say the least.

"Remind me to kill those two," Ron said when Harry reached him.

"Dean and Seamus?" Harry asked.

"Richardson's a fan of the local football team," Ron whispered. "He laughed at Dean being a West Ham fan, to which Seamus insulted the local fan song. Richardson's furious. Look, even the bodyguards got pissed."

Ron wasn't exagerrating. Harry noticed that each bodyguard were fingering their guns, and one even removed it.

"Shame it ended like this," Harry said. "Shall we?"

Ron and him took out their wands, slowly. Ron stunned a body guard, while Harry physically lifted the table and upended it.

Dean and Seamus jumped into combat quicker than the bodyguards, who weren't expected to be attacked by sticks. Within a few seconds, the muggle group were stunned.

Someone screamed.

They turned to see a janitor turn and run down a corridor.

"Bugger," Ron spat. "The other guards will be here quick. Run like hell. If anyone finds the prisoner, send the spell."

They split up and ran into various corridors.

Harry ran as fast as he could down his corridor, looking for the entrance to the basement. He skidded to a stop when he saw a door open. Two men rushed out.

Harry growled. Wizards?

He quickly rushed into a door to his right, and found himself in the kitchens. It was long empty by now. He ran to the other end, where another door was, but stopped suddenly upon hearing a voice.

"And where do you think you're going, Mr. Potter?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Dean stunned one more guard, and saw Ron run by. He joined him.

"So, should we look for an exit?" Dean asked.

"Not yet," Ron shook his head. "One of them might need our help."

"We can apparate, you know?" retorted Dean.

"No," Ron whispered. "We can't."

Dean tried to apparate, and the familiar barrier of anti-apparation wards clutched at him.

"Oh, bugger," Dean swore. "Wizards?"

"It seems so," Ron replied, kicking door after door open. "Which means we have to find the others."

They found Seamus later on, and he told them he'd already reached their conclusion. They continued to find Harry.

As they rushed across the corridors, they ran into a few wizards. Ron was hit in the arm before he could react, and he gasped in pain as a fierce burn sizzled above his elbow. Under the torn sleeve, he could see the skin red.

Dean threw a spell quickly, knocking down one of the enemies. He turned to send another, but had to dive to avoid a spell that was aimed at him.

Seamus and a wizard had given up on wands due to the close proximity and were busy trading punches. After getting a nasty hit to his right cheek, Seamus blocked the next punch and rammed his knee in the wizard's midsection. He dropped his elbow at the back of the head, as the wizard was hunched over, quickly stunned the wizard as he lay on the floor.

Ron had dropped his wand when hit, and had to deal with the last enemy in the group, who was busy sending a spell at Dean. Ron ran towards him, and once he reached him, he opened a door that stood beside the wizard and slammed it in the opposite direction, where the wizard was standing. The wizard was knocked off his feet, giving Dean the chance to stun him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"I wish I could be surprised, Anar," Harry said, "but I can't. A muggle-born Death Eater before. Now, a wizard turncoat for the muggles."

"Survival is my goal," Polanar replied smoothly, twirling his wand about with his hand. "I'll join the strongest side around."

"Haven't you learned?" Harry said. "You cant assume who'll win. Voldemort lost, in case you've forgotten."

"I'm a man of probabilities," said Polanar. "Voldemort had a greater chance of taking over. And now the muggles do. The chances of you defeating the stronger side for a second time is even smaller."

"And you did this to me?" Harry spat.

"What?" Polanar laughed. "Your memory? How would you know?"

"I got a vision of your men manhandling me as you cast a spell on me," Harry said softly. He could feel the his standing on end, his anger rising exponentially. "You couldn't have done it on your own, coward?"

"Wasn't necessary," chuckled Polanar.

"How did you get me to come to the future?" roared Harry.

Polanar's smile fell. "What?" he asked. "How did I get you to the fut..." His smile returned. "You didn't think you time-traveled, did you?"

Upon seeing Harry's face, he let out a cruel whoop of a laugh.

"You couldn't come up with a better reason?" Polanar cackled. "It went better than I thought."

"What went?" Harry growled. He was confused, to say the least.

"Instead of going for the most outlandish nonsense," Polanar said. "Why don't you go for something far simpler, and feasible? Within the realm of known magic."

Harry was still, his mind tearing through everything he could think of. His eyes widened.

"Yes, you fool," Polanar remarked. "You arrogant fool. Six years time travel, when nobody's done it? Such arrogance from the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Harry, without warning.

Polanar didn't expect this, and was very fortunate to be able to jump out of the way.

"I shall leave you to your thoughts," Polanar said. "Torture first then kill, I always say. And this revelation should give you enough of that." He waved his wand in a series of complex movements, and then apparated out of the room.

* * *

A/N: As for Lily disagreeing with James on Remus being a turncoat, I made that up. As far as I can remember, there's nothing in canon that discussed that. 


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: If I haven't mentioned it before, this story does have strong language.

* * *

Chapter 17  
Leads and Ends

_Hermione walked swiftly through the corridors, furiously wiping her face and trying to stop the cracked sobs from pushing out of her throat (she failed). Her breaths were short, quick, and laboured. Her thoughts were countless, acute, and in disarray. Her movements were erratic, animated, and trembling._

_She paid little attention to where she was headed, but her feet knew where to take her. She found herself in front of the door, unsurprisingly. She raised her hand and knocked, as always. She heard nothing, as always. And, like she did numerous times in the past few years, she turned around and headed down the corridor._

_After she had taken five steps, the unlikely happened. She heard a door open. Rooted to the spot, she refused to turn around, to at least grasp the hope of it being_ the _door for a few seconds more before the certain realisation that it was some other door._

_"Hermione?" a voice called down._

_It couldn't be..._

_"Harry?" she asked as she quickly turned around. The answer appeared before her. Harry stood there, and despite the weariness he displayed, and the tired sag of his shoulders, he was grinning. What fortuitous timing._

_"How did you know I was here?" he asked. "I just came."_

_"Oh?" she stammered. "Just some spell I found by chance," she lied as she waved the question away. "Where are you staying now?"_

_"Prague," he replied simply. "Lovely city. Come in, there are a few things I have to do. We can talk in my room."_

_They entered the room, and Hermione wasn't surprised to see it look as neat as before, except for a single drawer which was completely taken out and it's contents all over the bed._

_"What are you looking for?" she asked._

_"My switching crystal," Harry said as he rummaged through the cupboard. He didn't turn around when she sat on the bed (making sure she didn't disturb the objects)._

_"So," Harry said, trying to start a conversation. "How have things been?"_

_"Okay," Hermione said._

_The rustling sounds stopped, and Harry's head went around the cupboard door._

_"Is something the matter?" he said, frowning. "One would think you'd be happier to see me."_

_"Oh no," Hermione blustered, wiping her face. "I just had a fight."_

_"With Ron?" Harry asked, unsurprised._

_"Yes."_

_Harry went back to his searching. "I hope everything went well."_

_"Aren't you going to ask what the fight was over?" Hermione asked, puzzled._

_"Why should I?" Harry asked back. "It's hard not to appear as taking sides, and not knowing why you're fighting would make it easier."_

_"It makes sense," Hermione shrugged. "But I think this is getting extremely tedious, and it might not last much longer..."_

_"You think?" queried Harry._

_"No, it's pretty clear there are issues," Hermione confirmed. "I think I can give it some more time just to see, but I'm not hopeful. Hopefully it won't ruin our entire relationship."_

_"You've been friends for years," Harry consoled. "It'd take more than a few fights to break us all apart."_

_Harry continued to look around, and for the life of him, could not find the crystal. After a couple of minutes, he realised Hermione said nothing. He turned to see her staring at the wall, dazed. He sighed (he'd have to go on without the crystal) and walked over to her. He sat beside her, and only her scooting a bit to give him room gave any indication she noticed his presence._

_"I really thought we could..." she began._

_"Be together?" Harry finished. She nodded. "Well, what's happened has happened. There'll always be other people if it ends. And you may get together again."_

_"No," she said vehemently. "If we end it, it's over. I can't go through this again, nor drag him through it."_

_Harry remained silent. She hugged him, continued to pour out her problems._

_"I mean, they always say opposites attract," she said into his shoulder. "Where are we going wrong?"_

_"Remus loved to say that 'opposites attract, but similar people endure'," Harry replied. "He said it peeved my parents as they each claimed to be nothing like the other."_

_"I don't even knew how we got to fighting," Hermione said. "I think it started on something completely innocent."_

_"Doesn't it always?" Harry asked with a smile. It was almost as if she could sense the smile, because Hermione hit his chest._

_"A few arguments here and there never hurt," she argued._

_"It does when you each take it so personally," he replied. "Neither of you are willing to let things go. You even argue about past arguments, long after they ended."_

_She didn't reply. Harry then pulled away, and got up. _

_Despite her anxiety, within a__ month or two later, Hermione and Ron appeared to have solved everything, and seemed like a great couple once again. This was to Harry's amusement and bemusement, and he told them that they seemed like they were never going to be apart for long._

_"Well then," he said. "It's been nice seeing you."_

_"What?" Hermione was undoubtedly confused. "You can't be leaving now?"_

_"Sorry," Harry shrugged. "I only came here to have a meeting and then head right back."_

_"Why don't you leave tomorrow?" she asked. "I want to see my friend."_

_"I wasn't supposed to come here," Harry explained. "I got a contact and had to squeeze in some free time."_

_"What's so important?" she queried. "Why don't I come along to the meeting?"_

_"No," replied Harry, quite forcefully. He softened his tone. "I mean, I have to do this alone."_

_"Is it..."_

_"No no," Harry waved aside. "Nothing to do with Voldemort directly. It's Snape."_

_"Snape?" Hermione hissed in fury. "You're meeting Snape? It's a trap!"_

_"Not somewhere as public as the Three Broomsticks," Harry said. "I have to go alone. We need to find out what side he was on. After you suggested the rather far-fetched possibility of Dumbledore's death being a strategy, I started to have some doubts. Whether he attacks me or not, tonight we will find out."_

_"It's too risky, Harry."_

_"I have to know."_

_"Fine then," Hermione conceded, angrily. "But when you come back, come see me. There's much we have to catch up on."_

_She noticed the guilty look that spread on Harry's face. Her shoulders sagged. _

_"You're heading back after the meeting aren't you?" she sighed. The look on his face gave the answer. "Just spend a few hours here. How bad would it be? Seriously!"_

_"I don't like this," Harry said. "But I have no choice. Voldemort's getting stronger."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Harry sat in a corner, slowly sipping his mead. As he looked around, he decided that The Three Broomsticks did not look out of the ordinary, and was as crowded as usual._

_He tried to ignore the loud conversations, the hustle and bustle as people moved about, instead attempting to concentrate on what shouldn't be there. Snape, for all his faults or not, would stick out very easily in such an establishment with hilarity and boisterousness._

_Madam Rosmerta appeared beside him and gave him another glass. Upon looking at her questioningly, realising it was firewhisky, she explained a lady at the bar gave a round for everyone. Harry raised his glass, and asked Rosmerta to offer his thanks. As he downed the entire glass in one gulp, along with the entire pub, he gasped. This was far stronger than the regular firewhisky. He was groggy a minute after drinking. How alcoholic was this drink?_

_He was still shaking his head when a dark shadow sat in front of him. Looking up, he saw Snape in his usual. Sneering._

_"Potter," he nodded._

_"Snape," Harry replied, not risking a nod. "Let's go to somewhere less crowded."_

_Snape shook his head. "I'd rather not," he replied without explanation. "Let's get it over with. I'm..."_

_Harry didn't hear what Snape said at that point as he suddenly felt another presence in him. He looked around in surprise, which silenced Snape. He knew what this was, as many had tried it on him, while failing. The_ Imperius _curse. _

_Harry found himself annoyed, and tried to throw out the presence quickly. It didn't work. He couldn't concentrate hard enough, with all the liquor inside him. He took a breath, and tried again. This time it worked._

_As he was preoccupied with the curse, a person approached Snape from behind, and bent over, whispering in his ear. Snape's head fell to the table. By the time Harry threw off the Imperius, all he could see was the person ahead his wand withdrawn, which was at the same level as where the back of Snape's neck was before. _

_Harry stumbled to his feet and attempted to chase the attacker. As he struggled his way to the exit, falling at least twice (or was it three times?), he withdrew his wand from inside his clothes (after searching three wrong pockets). He opened the door and headed out into the Hogsmeade street. He saw the faint outline of the attacker up ahead, but t__he attacker didn't wait and quickly apparated away._

_Harry stumbled to the ground and passed out._

_As he awoke, Harry found himself closing his eyes immediately as the harsh glare of light doubled the already terrible headache he had. He groaned, and what didn't help was the female giggle that followed it. He opened his eyes cautiously, and very slightly, allowing only a bit of light in._

_"Can you dim the lights, please?" he asked._

_"Tough night Potter?" Hermione said mirthlessly as her face appeared over him._

_"Where's Snape?" he asked. _

_She frowned. "He didn't survive the attack," she said. "Rosmerta contacted me when she realised it was death and not a pass-out. As she stepped outside to wait for me, she found you and took you inside. As I entered, I noticed your unconcious body on a table. Coming to see one dead person, I was horrified. I almost fell apart."_

_"I'm sorry," Harry said._

_"Imagine my reaction when I was told that it was a pass-out and not a death," Hermione smiled softly._

_"I'm not touching a drop ever again," he said._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The corridors were empty at the moment, with the children being taught by the remaining adults capable of doing so. As young Milton Brown said in dismay to his friend, Mary Brocklehurst, "We might get slaughtered by the muggles, but even that's not an excuse for no school."

Ron's footsteps broke the eery silence of the building, as he walked swiftly to Harry's room. He'd gone to speak to Dean and Seamus, to have a chat about the _Freshner_ mission, as Harry said he had a few things to cover. After a few pints, Dean and Seamus admitted that they enjoyed the "adventure" and were willing to help out again if needed.

_Gryffindors_. _Throwing ourselves into danger left and right, _Ron snorted. _It's a wonder we haven't become extinct._

He stopped at the Great Hall, upon hearing Draco's voice booming out. This must be one of the essential lessons, which was taught simultaneously to all the children. Certain spells, fighting techniques, and dealing with dangerous situations were taught to every child, regardless of age. The usual subjects of Charms, Transfiguration and so on were taught to smaller groups as much as possible, but with some teachers dead or left Britain, it wasn't easy. 'Essential' usally meant dangerous, and would've definitely been prevented by the Ministry under normal circumstances, but that wasn't a problem now.

"Put away your books," Draco said. "Today'll be only wand-work. Only one spell, really."

Ron heard that they were going to teach the kids a spell (or try to at least). He opened the Great Hall doors, and entered, watching the class from the back. The long benches and tables were gone, with each person was sitting on the floor.

"What do you know of shielding spells?" Draco asked. A number of hands went up. He pointed to one.

"It's a spell that protects a person from other spells," the student answered.

"Close," Draco said. "Some protect you from the physical, too, such as objects or heat.

"Some are stronger than others. Today, I'm going to show you a common one used in war. Has anyone heard of the _Eurysaces_ magic?"

Nobody raised their hand.

"It's a shield spell, as I said earlier," Draco explained. "A somewhat useful one, but not the most powerful possible."

"Then why don't we just learn the most powerful one?" a student asked.

"For one thing, the powerful ones are generally difficult," replied Draco. "The second, just because they're powerful, it doesn't mean it can block all attacks. Certain shields work in certain circumstance. One must learn when to use which.

"The reason why we're going to learn the _Eurysaces_ shield is, not only it's easier to learn than the others, but that it has a peculiar feature that makes it stand out from most other magic."

"What?"

"Once cast, the spellcaster isn't needed anymore," Draco explained. "And that's where it's use in battle makes it essential. Most spells disappear upon the death of the caster, but a few can persist. Of all the shield spells in Europe, only the Greek _Eurysaces_ can continue on. Also, with a simple flick of the wand, one can move an already cast shield surrounding his or herself to surround another instead. Thus, distracted in the middle of battle, drained, or otherwise needing to rapidly protect someone, you can attempt to protect someone else by giving them your shield. Admittedly to your own disadvantage."

"So what?" asked a student. "If the caster's dead, who does he need to protect?"

"That's simplistic," said Draco. "We've always tried to defend others in war, and some of us have the fortitude to look past our own impending demise, and instead give an opportunity to those we love to escape."

"But how long can it last?"

"Not too long," replied Draco. "It usually depends on the caster's strength, and will at the moment the spell's cast. But it could last an hour, maybe two. Or it could last only fifteen minutes. When one is given such a protection, one doesn't dwell about."

"But what's so special about it?" a Ravenclaw named Mark Wilson asked. "I mean, we already know how to do shield spells. Plus, someone could do it alive."

"The advantage is clear," Draco said. "Anyone care to take a shot?"

One student answered, "Well, the one protected is free from expending his magic on the spell should he just flick his to someone else's..."

"Exactly, Sarah," Draco beamed. "But the problem here is that it's a sacrificial technique if used in such a manner. The person who makes the spell has already used magic. Should one be near the end of their lives and feel death is inevitable, they could use the ever slightest of magic they have left."

With that, Draco told the class to line up with a partner each, and practice the spell. He moved about, correcting each student when needed, or giving them added pointers with praise.

Ron decided that he had to continue on. He quietly left the room, and headed onwards to his destination.

He reached Harry's door, and was about to open it, but stopped as his arm was raised. You haven't been good friends with two people since the age of eleven if you're incapable of immediately detecting apprehension etched in their voices.

"It's decided, Hermione," Harry's voice came out of the door, as loud as it was firm.

"But we didn't discuss who'd do it," Hermion replied, just as forcefully.

"You asked which of us would be willing," he said, "and I volunteered."

"But..." Hermione started, but got interrupted by Harry.

"But nothing," he said. "You did the same thing in the Sheffield excursion against Voldemort."

Hermione said something low, inaudible to Ron.

"There's no reason to drag Ron into this," he said. "And you know it. He's lost family members, and such a discussion will just confuse things."

"But your life will change, Harry," Hermione said. Ron heard a sigh.

"I know, 'Mione," he said. "But one of us had to."

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"_No_."

"You're going to need me afterwards, and you know it," she hissed. "If I don't come, I'll never forgive you."

_Accept it, Harry_, Ron thought to himself. That tone from Hermione meant that she wasn't bluffing. Harry seemed to know as well, as he quickly acquiesced. He heard another inaudible mumble.

When Ron could tell this particular conversation was over, he counted to sixty, and when no other words were spoken, he knocked on the door and entered the room. He didn't say anything about it. He suspected he knew exactly what it was about, and believed he would hear about it before any action was taken.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ginny sipped her coffee slowly as she sat at the cafe, waiting for Hermione to show up. She sat with her back to a wall, and able to watch in all directions. Why Hermione asked to meet in the muggle open was beyond her, but she usually had a good reason for what she did.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long," Hermione said, sitting down.

"Not too long," Ginny said. "But I'm not too fond of meeting in muggle territory."

"Don't worry," Hermione replied. "My contact should be coming soon."

Ginny started some small talk with Hermione until the 'contact' came. After chuckling over some idiot she went out with, she ventured a question.

"How are things in the dating realm for you?"

"Non-existent, as wars seem to cause," Hermione said nonchalantly, but her eyes were alert. She normally could tell when someone was trying to weave their way with a question.

"What about Harry?" Ginny ventured.

"We haven't discussed," Hermione said, but her eyes were darting around, scouring the surroundings. "Why do you ask? Want to get back with him?"

"No," Ginny waved aside. "He might've changed, but I still experienced all that. We had our chance, and sadly it's gone. Pity, he's a nice guy."

"Top bloke," Hermione said, then sighed. "What's going on Ginny? What's with the questions?"

Ginny blanched, but quickly recovered. "Nothing. I'm just questioning the love-lives of my friends."

"Because yours has been so facsinating," Hermione replied without humour.

"What's gotten into you?" Ginny asked.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. She sighed as she did so. Ginny then took a good look at Hermione's face. Her hair was combed, but somewhat quickly, a far difference from her very meticulous preparations she made every day.

"Did you even sleep last night?" Ginny said.

"Not if you consider lying on your bed for three hours with your eyes open as 'sleeping'," Hermione replied, taking a large sip of her coffee.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Hermione replied. "But since part of it is why I needed to meet you, I might's well had to. I had a fight with Harry last night, and then a talk with him today morning that was even worse."

"What happened?" Ginny asked. Upon seeing Hermione's hesitation, she said firmly, "You can trust me. Go on."

"Well, since the meeting would already tell you what we're thinking, last night...

_Hermione went in Harry's room, looking to discuss her investigation plans. She found the room in a mess, wondering why the house-elf didn't come to clean (disgusting wizard culture). She spotted him seated dejectedly, a glass of orange juice in his hand, and a plate of food in front of him. The plate was untouched. He didn't look good at all. Hermione thought he looked like he was under severe stress, and didn't know up from down. His entire face was lined with fatigue, sadness and above all, abandoned of all hope._

_"Yes?" he asked, as if he was waiting for her to speak, despite looking like he was completely uninterested in her presence._

_"What's wrong?" she asked._

_"Nothing."_

_"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "Something's bothering you. Is it Polanar?"_

_"Yes," he said simply. A moment of silence ensued._

_"And...?" asked Hermione in encouragement._

_"It was a memory charm," he said, and took a drink. "I've been running around coming up with mad theories and I didn't consider the obvious."_

_"Dumbledore gave you that answer..."_

_"Dumbledore is a painting," Harry interrupted. "I should've thought of that. I should've looked for possible culprits."_

_"And?" Hermione asked._

_"Isn't it obvious?" replied Harry. "I might've figured out it was Polanar long before, and we wouldn't have been in this mess. I could've solved this. Instead, I'm believing fairy tales and in the process let the muggles start a war with us."_

_"It's not..."_

_"My fault?" Harry finished. "Familiar territory. Yet, this time it is. Other times I might've not known all the facts, but these dots were standing in front of me, begging to be joined. Stupidity in abundance."_

_"Well, what are we going to do?" Hermione asked. "Do we go after Polanar, the muggles, or to restrain the wizards?"_

_"Won't make a difference," Harry replied. "War has started. We are just insignificant pawns now. Never has a war been stopped by any one person. It takes whole groups of people, of countries, to stop this."_

_"We can try," was Hermione's forceful reply._

_"We will," Harry sighed, "but we will fail. Just wanted to give you a heads-up."_

_"Ridiculous," Hermione continued on. "As long as we make an attempt, we can do it. We've got you, too."_

_Harry's demeanor changed. He looked at her more intently. "What is it about me that makes you think I can be of more help?"_

_Hermione looked at him in confusion. "Come again?"_

_"What is it about me that makes you think I can do what others can't?" Harry asked, watching her carefully._

_"You're a natural born leader," Hermione replied. "You might not think so, but others look up to you. If you're committed, so are they."_

_"I know that," Harry waved aside. "We're well aware of the general public's bonker views. One minute I'm the saviour, the next a loon criminal. I asked what is it about me that makes **you** think I can do more?"_

_Hermione's frown deepened into annoyance, "I've seen you condemned by almost every single person in England, yet you are the first to put all on the line to protect them."_

_"I don't believe in the 'Great Persons' school of thought," Harry waved aside. "I was at the right place at the right moment. If anyone else was where I was, the same would've happened."_

_Hermione's reply was almost snarl, "Rubbish! You think you were the only one who knew a troll was rampaging about in our first year and had the option to go help someone else or save yourself? Were you the only one aware of muggle-born attacks in our second year and could decide to look for the perpatrator? On and on, there have been countless people in your position. A few have attempted, but only you have risked more. Even as a child, you were willing to do more than adults."_

_"And what have I gained?" Harry snapped. He stood up and paced about the room. "I'm in my mid-twenties, without memory. Even if I had any, it'd be useless. As far as I can tell, I have few friends, no significant other. I'm a recluse in all intents and purposes. I was willing to risk death to help others, and I've ended up sacrificing my life. And it isn't that easy, no..." he said in mock humour, yelling the angry snarl never left his voice. What made Hermione concerned was even though he was angry, Harry's voice never raised or lowered, remaining a steady pitch as he continued unabated, almost as if he were unaware of her presence._

_"No, I have to live in this fuck-job one could call a life only in jest," he paused. "Haven't you noticed since my memory wipe, you have had nothing to tell me? No girlfriends, no interesting stories. Just I taught, never got back with Ginny etc... Meaningless nonsense. I'm sick of this."_

_Hermione remained silent, allowing him to continue on._

_"I have two choices. One, continue getting scarred and sacrificing everything I could have for others who won't appreciate it or get off their chairs to help out, or two head out and get my own life. Why should others be more important to me? I don't see others giving me half that courtesy."_

_"What about me?" Hermione snarled. "And Ron? We've stood by you. We've sacrificed. The Order members who all died sacrificed."_

_"You don't get it," Harry said. "I have nothing to sacrifice. I never did. Now I understand why I didn't want to fight. I admit it puzzled me before. But I see it clearly now. Once again, more is asked of me. How many more years should I have to give up? If I die in this fight, what I have I lived that makes dying worth it?"_

_Hermione decided right then and there that being understanding wasn't helping, and tried a different method._

_"Look, we can waste our time with your misery," she said, attempting to keep her voice as level-headed as she could make it seem. "But we both now you're not going to walk out and abandon the wizarding world. As we dilly-dally, more people will die, which'll only increase the guilt you'll feel in the end. You have to lead, and the rest of us will follow."_

_That clearly didn't work, as Hermione was just about to realise. Harry seemed to want to persist in this for a bit more._

_"How about you lead this time, and I follow?" he asked. "Then when you suffer, I can tell you patronising shit that it's not your fault, and you did the right thing?"_

_"Stop making yourself a martyr," Hermione said. "You know you're going to fight. Let's end this, and we'll continue on in our lives."_

_"And when he next Dark Wanker comes?" Harry asked. "It's inevitable."_

_"Tell you what," Hermione offered. "Let's save the wizarding world from ultimate destruction, and we'll leave all Dark Lords, deranged psychopaths and otherwise social misfits to the wizarding world to deal with for the next twenty years. How does that sound?"_

_"Splendid," Harry said, the ghost of a smile appearing for the first time. His shoulders then sagged. "I'm going to hold you to it."_

_"I wouldn't expect any less," she said, flashing a wide smile. "And you do have people to sacrifice. You have Ron. You have me."_

_"I don't have you," Harry said quietly."Not as I would want you."_

_For the first time in the conversation, Hermione had a loss of words. She first considered his words in confusion, but when she quickly understood the emotion behind his voice, she blushed. With great struggle, she removed emotion from her face, though a slight red stayed on her cheeks, not to mention her breath quickening._

_"I... I..." she stammered. She took a deep breath. "I thought it was something small. How long?"_

_"Years, apparently, as a hidden Pensieve told me," Harry replied. He had went back to the couch and sat on it, and he was hunched over with his face staring at the ground. She couldn't get a glance on his face. "I didn't understand the feelings I had for you, but the memories in the Pensieve explained it."_

_"And the memory swipe didn't remove the feelings?" Hermione mumbled. "Interesting."_

_"Like I said, I don't have you." Harry remarked. He raised his head to look at her eyes, his having a hope in it. "Will I? Can I?"_

_"It's all of a sudden," she replied, unsure what to say. "I don't know how I feel."_

_"I'm like a brother, right?" Harry looked back at the ground. "Don't delay what you're about to say."_

_"I wasn't going to say that," Hermione huffed. "I never saw you as a brother. It's just that now's not the time."_

_"When, then?"_

_"Let's get through the war before we go through this," she suggested. _

_"Why not?" Harry asked angrily. "Who knows how long this war will go on, or if we even win?"_

_"We don't need the distractions," she replied, her anger coming back as well._

_"I do," Harry disagreed. "For once, I need something to fight for. Which is mine, which I belong to."_

_"See?" Hermione raised her hands. "It's already altered your ability to think rationally."_

_"It's true," Harry said. "It's clear you don't have any interest in me. Just say so. I'm a grown man who can take rejection. In fact, that's all I know. If you accepted me, that would take some time to get the hang of. Don't string me along."_

_"Don't try to play the victim," Hermione snarled, her fury barely kept back, like Harry's. "If I had no interest, I'd tell you. Don't you dare even think I'd treat you in such a manner to string you along."_

_Harry got up and walked towards her. "No you wouldn't," he said, "unless you thought you needed me sane during the course of the war. Can't have the Boy-Who-Lived rejected. Britain would fall apart."_

_Hermione staggered back, as if she were slapped. "How dare..." she could barely get her words out, too strong was her fury. "**Fuck you**!"_

_"I can't get you to do that!" Harry spat back. "Can't you see my dilemma?"_

_She slapped him and stormed off. The door's slam came quickly after._

_Harry stood there, his hand on the part of the face still stinging. He knew he should feel regret, feel something. But at that moment, he felt drained. _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Hermione knocked on Harry's door in the morning, making sure to give only three polite raps on the wood. She smoothed down her skirt, nervous about what to do. But there were things that had to be done. The war wouldn't pause for two angry friends. She made sure she looked respectable, to look as if last night hadn't happened. She shuddered on what the room would look like. She went back on the words she prepared in the night, to convince Harry that they needed to hold back all discussion for the good of the war. He could've sobered up from his fury to accept it, but Hermione wasn't hopeful._

_"Come in," a voice called from within._

_She opened the door and slowly went in. She stopped, surprised in finding the room looking perfect, despite knowing that the house-elves didn't show up from cleaning for another couple of hours (or so she heard from Malfoy). In front of her was a massive circular table, one she hadn't seen since Harry led the Order in the Second Voldemort War. The table was filled with maps, plans and magical objects. Harry was seated in the lone chair, looking hard at a diagram, while tapping his wand at a small bronze coloured metal object, which looked a bit like an upside-down pendulum. Without looking up at her, he raised his wand, and with a wave, a chair appeared at the table, across from Harry._

_"Do sit," he offered, still not looking up. __She obeyed, wondering if things were going to be awkward. _

_Seemingly, Harry had no such problems. He looked up to her, and levitating some scrolls to her. She grabbed them in mid-air and looked at them, realising they were maps. _

_"Whare do they lead?" she asked._

_Harry kept working with his papers as he replied, "The Cave of Oblivion."_

_"We can use it?" she queried._

_"Not yet," he replied. "But if the Queen won't let us use it, an act of betrayal by the muggles will. As the monarch is reluctant to act to stop the muggle, for good reason, if the muggle action reaches a point vastly disproportionate to what we've done to them, we could use the Cave with no need for permission."_

_"That's not a plan," Hermione frowned. "Disproportionate could mean anything. Should we wait for genocide?"_

_"No," Harry shook his head, raising to look at her for the first time that morning. He paused for a moment, and went on. "We were always a minority, and no Norman wizard would let a magical brethren be under that much control. No, an large-scale attack would be enough."_

_"What's left to attack?" Hermione asked, before quickly getting the answer. It must have shown on her face as Harry's face turned grim._

_"Only one place left in Britain," he confirmed._

_"How will we know when we can do it?" she asked._

_"We'll all know," Harry replied. "Every witch and wizard."_

_"How?"_

_"Magic," he shrugged. "I don't know. It's never happened. But when it happens, we'll know."_

_"When?"_

_"From the looks of it, it seems inevitable," Harry shrugged again. "There is one catch, though."_

_"It had to be harder, didn't it?" Hermione asked._

_"The spell to be used isn't difficult, but it's sacrificial magic," Harry explained._

_Hermione didn't like this one bit. "What has to be given up?"_

_"The caster will have to give up his magic," Harry said emotionessly._

_"All of it?"_

_"All of it."_

_"Why the hell did they come up with that?" Hermione asked in fury. "Weren't the conditions harsh enough?"_

_"Our fault for losing," Harry said. "It ensured that we had a cause to fight for. Otherwise, I don't see anyone willing to give up the magic. No Dark Lord would be able to use it either, as coercion wouldn't work. It has to be given up willingly."_

_The room decended into silence. They looked through the papers for awhile, until Hermione couldn't resist not asking the obvious question._

_"So, who'd cast the spell?"_

_"I will," Harry answered._

_"Why you?" she asked, looking at him in shock._

_"I just offered."_

_"Let's offer it to others," she suggested. "Including myself."_

_"Very few will accept losing their magic, Hermione," Harry said. "You know this."_

_"Let's ask those who'd give it a thought," Hermione persisted._

_"It' s too much to ask of them," Harry argued. Seeing that she wasn't willing to back down, he said, "It's decided, Hermione,"_

_"But we didn't discuss who'd do it," Hermion replied, just as forcefully._

_"You asked which of us would be willing," he said, "and I volunteered."_

_"But..." Hermione started, but got interrupted by Harry._

_"But nothing," he said. "You did the same thing in the Sheffield excursion against Voldemort."_

_"Let's at least hear Ron's opinion. He'd want that." Hermione said._

_"There's no reason to drag Ron into this," he said. "And you know it. He's lost family members, and such a discussion will just confuse things."_

_"But your life will change, Harry," Hermione said._

_Harry sighed deeply. "I know, 'Mione," he said. "But one of us had to."_

_"I'm coming with you," she said._

_"No."_

_"You're going to need me afterwards, and you know it," she hissed. "If I don't come, I'll never forgive you."_

_Seeing the anxious state she was in, Harry's eyes softened, and he accepted. _

_"I'm sorry Hermione," he whispered. "I could never ask this of you."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Interesting night and morning," was all Ginny could say after that.

"Indeed," Hermione said.

"So what's this thing about Harry?" Ginny asked.

"There's nothing," Hermione replied.

"I'm a female," Ginny smiled. "Unlike Harry. You never said you were not interested."

"No I didn't," said Hermione. "But I'm not interested during a war."

"Please," Ginny dismissed with a wave of her hand. "You were with Ron when we fought against Voldemort. Not being with someone during a war is Harry's method, not yours. What's really going on?"

"You remember the fights with Ron," Hermione said. "I have no interest risking another friendship."

"Why didn't you just tell him that?" Ginny asked.

"Well, he's been in a very bad situation," Hermione replied. "He really feels lost and has far bigger problems to deal with."

Ginny frowned. "You wouldn't lie to Harry," she said. "I know that. And you know that would be a lie. So you must be misleading right now."

"No, not at all," Hermione assured Ginny, but her eyes weren't helping her claims.

"Now, you admit that you would attempt a different relationship with him, but the friend thing is a stumbling block," Ginny said, thinking out loud. "You don't tell him that, instead promising to consider things after the war. Why?"

"You're over-reaching your conclusions," Hermione argued.

"I haven't concluded anything yet," Ginny said with a smirk, noting Hermione's discomfort. "Perhaps you're not lying. You're not sure, are you?"

"About?"

"About Harry, that's what," Ginny said. "You think it's a possibility, but at the same time are concerned with risking things. Thus, you give a vague reply."

"Look," Hermione said. "I don't know what or where things are. Harry's quite an attractive bloke, but now's not the time to risk things. Let's drop this. Please?"

"So, who're we meeting?" asked Ginny.

"Some person who worked in the Ministry," explained Hermione.

"Oh?" Ginny said.

They waited for awhile, continuing on with small talk, reminiscing. Hermione then looked up. Ginny looked at that direction.

"You brought an Unspeakable?" she asked.

"How did you know that?" Hermione asked, puzzled. She only found out a couple of days previously.

"Oh, someone told me," Ginny replied quickly.

A young man, slightly under 30 it looked, reached the table. He had a simple presence, not noticeable in a crowd.

"Mr. Sinclair," Hermione said, offering the man a chair. "Thanks so much for showing up."

"No problem. I admit I'm interested," he replied. "Do call me Thomas." Upon seeing Ginny, "Weasley, are you the reason Miss Granger knows I'm an Unspeakable?"

"No," Ginny said firmly, looking hard at him, shaking her head.

"Someone else told me," Hermione said. "How would Ginny know? Oh, don't tell me..."

"Come on, sir!" Ginny scowled. "What did you say about assumptions?"

"Sorry, Ginny," Thomas smiled. "Oh well, there's no Ministry to make us regret it."

"I never would've guessed," Hermione said in wonderment. "What's it like?"

Ginny opened her mouth, but upon seeing her superior, she simply said, "Classified." But the twinkle in her eye gave away that she was going to reveal more when Hermione and her were alone. Thomas chose to ignore it.

"There is someone else who I asked to join us," Thomas said. "He should have his own information. I told him to meet me a few minutes ago, but he's late... Ah, there he is."

Hermione saw a young man approach them, with shoulder length black hair. She didn't remember ever seeing him before. Probably another Unspeakable. Her assumption was apparently confirmed when Ginny's eyes exhibited recognition, but was destroyed when she opened her mouth.

"Peter Wayne?" she asked.

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the very late update. I had to figure out the rest of the story before proceeding. This should be the final phase of the story. Unfortunately, or fortunately, it'll be mostly action/adventure after this chapter. 


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: My apologies. I've broken every rule I planned in writing the story, and threw it out the window to boot. It's been so long. Deathly Hallows seemed to be a distraction in my mind regarding this story, and then months went to more months, I lost track of the story, and then it was difficult to get back to the frame of mind for writing.

But I started this thing, and I'll finish it.

A reminder, though, that this story remains strictly up until Half-Blood Prince using canon. While I may borrow a few things from Deathly Hallows about the magical world in general, the actual events in Deathly Hallows have not happened.

* * *

Chapter 18  
The Truth is in the Details

Harry sat alone, looking up at the cloudy sky, waiting for it to part to let him bask in the glow of the full moon. Pensive though he was, he found himself distracted by every rustle of a leaf, every blow of the wind, every drop in temperature he felt. Somewhere around him he expected to hear a howl, he wished it even more.

He remembered a talk he had with Hermione the other day.

"Hermy?" Harry said then.

Silence.

"Hermy?"

"If you want me to reply," came the annoyed reply with a sniff, "_don't_ call me Hermy."

"Hermione, then," huffed Harry.

She sat beside him. Harry could feel her shoulder as she barely rested it on his upper left chest. He was momentarily distracted.

"What did you want to say?" she asked.

"How come you could never get along with Malfoy?" he asked. "And Ron could? I mean, who'd predict that? Their hatred was fire."

"Yes, it was," she said. "But like fire, it could get doused. It was all appearances, their hatred was mutual and what they expected from the beginning, even before they met one another. Their families hated one another and so would they. No matter how much Malfoy insulted Ron, it was his wealth, not his magic or humanity that got hit. Ron attacked Malfoy as evil, but once Malfoy showed something else... well, it became pointless really."

"And yours differed how?" Harry was confused.

"I wasn't simply hated," Hermione explained. "I was dismissed. I didn't count. And in a way, that's worse than mere flaming hate. Each day was another day I was reminded that I didn't fit in. That I did not _belong_. It removes identity from me. Ron was hated, Ron. In my case, I was merely lumped into a group to despise. It wasn't me or anything about me. Thus, it didn't matter who I was or what I became, I did not exist in those people like Malfoy's eyes. I would never be good enough and as I was a child the effects still stings me even now."

Harry squeezes her shoulder. He couldn't see her face, and she didn't turn to him once.

"That sort of interaction never, _never_, leaves a person," she continued. "It's a weight that follows you, even when you're alone. I could never look at Malfoy in a fond manner. I can't stand to look at him and not remember that sneering bastard who helped rip into a young girl's character, feelings and self-esteem. Sure, he changed for the better. But I won't."

"Hermione?" Harry asked, changing the subject as Hermione seemed to be quite unhappy then. "I never understood how I escaped Pettigrew's Avada Kedavra."

"Well, until you came up with this future traveling nonsense," Hermione said with a chuckle that didn't reach her eyes, "we simply concluded that he owed you a life-debt, remember? And while that spell put you in a coma for a long time, we never knew if you were going to wake up, Pettigrew was unable to kill you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_"It is only through our acknowledgment of their inferiority," rasped a voice loud into the dead-silent hall, a hall which held thousands of men and women, "that we wizards and witches can realize our true place in the world. The powerful do not equate themselves with the weak!"_

_A roar erupted, a terrible roar, with hisses and banging._

_"The pure do not deal with the filthy!"_

_The foundations of the building seemed suspect at the mass stomping of the feet of the crowd, wild with delusions of grandeur and greatness. The voice continued._

_"The magical do not descend themselves to the level of muggles!"_

_"And thus the Dark Lord Wankus speaketh," whispered Harry to Ron with a sigh, "blah blah blah until his enemy gave up from all the blahs and left the battlefield."_

_Hermione elbowed Harry, which connected with the back of his head, as she was a few steps above him. He glared at her. "Get to work!" she mouthed at him._

_Still rubbing his head, and still glaring too mind you, Harry hopped off the final few steps and walked off in the direction of the large podium where the red-eyed speaker was giving his speech. A massive green banner hung above the podium, with the drawing of the Dark Mark right on it in silver colours._

_Hermione looked around at the group of fighters around her, and she whispered into an orb (to the fighters stationed around the Great Hall and outside the building), "Very well, then. When I give the signal, everybody do what was planned. Best of..."_

_A massive explosion shook the entire hall, occurring right in the middle of the hall._

_"Oh bloody, bollocks, bugger, bastard!" Hermione shouted. "If he survives this, I'm going to kill Harry."_

_Ron grabbed the orb away from Hermione and shouted the order. __"Attack! Attack! Attack! Go, go, go!"_

_Nobody who survived could tell later on what the others did. Each could only say, very restrictively, what that person alone did in the battle._

_Harry had sent an explosive orb into the middle of the crowd of Death Eaters, sympathizers and other social misfits, killing a fair number before they even knew of an attack and leaving the rest momentarily paralyzed with shock._

_The crowd split into those who tried to escape the building, and those willing to fight. Harry thought with disgust that one could always trust an evil person to forgo all loyalty the moment the chips are down._

_The path towards Voldemort cleared in front of him, and unsurprisingly, Voldemort was already looking straight at Harry by the time Harry found him._

_No words were exchanged. Not this time. Both knew they said all that was to be said, neither knew what was going to happen. The light of expectation of victory in Voldemort's blood-red eyes were absent. He merely observed Harry as a threat to be taken seriously. Harry did the same, only trying to slow his beating heart, which felt like it was going to simply slam out of his chest, so hard was it pounding._

_Voldemort sent a spell, without waiting, and it hit Harry 's left wrist. Choking back his cry, Harry raised his wand (in his right hand) and sent back a spell of his own._

_Voldemort easily blocked it._

_And so the fight continued. Harry would try to block and dodge as many of Voldemort's attacks as he could, but some would inevitably hit him. While not one of Harry's spells had hit Voldemort yet._

_"You have not learned anything," Voldemort said, not bothered by the fact that they had been throwing spells at one another for over an hour straight._

_Harry, on the other hand, was bloodied, and the top part of his robe was half-missing. He wiped some blood from his right shoulder, winced as he raised his wand, and sent off another spell._

_Voldemort deflected it without worry._

_And so it continued. Another hour passed._

_And another hour passed again._

_By now, the battle around the two of them had ended, and for the life of him, Harry did not notice who won or why the entire hall was empty. He was so focused with Voldemort. He had to get it right, the slightest of errors would result in his death and a massive blow against his side._

___See, no matter what Harry learned, it would never come close to what Voldemort knew and studied for decades. It would always pale to it. He, along with others advising him, decided that instead of trying to out-magic Voldemort and failing like a fool of legendary proportions, he should try to wait and bide his time for the opportune moment._

_And so Harry spent months training to tackle long battles which drained him of his physical and magical power, not to mention the mental strain it exerted on him. He had to be patient to see the opening._

_Against a wizard as powerful as Voldemort, there could be only one chance. To fail in it would give away the plan to Voldemort and he'd be prepared for it. "Voldemort must assume you're merely being the hero fighting on and on," his trainers stressed again and again and again. "He must leave openings as the time goes by, and not expect a full-on attack in the span of seconds from you. _

_"He underestimates you," said the trainer. "This is the only reason it'll work. After time has passed, he will not expect a quick and ultimate attack from you. Not from someone he holds in contempt as a lucky bastard. You must strike at the opportune moment."_

_After another thirty minutes, Harry finally saw Voldemort advance and leave his left hand rigid to his side. You need to understand that defending spells need both arms ready for the swift motion._

_Harry rapidly waved his wand arm, so swift he lost his balance while his body screamed with pain, but he successfully poured as much of his magic into the spell, forcing it as hard as he can through the wand, which became hot and burned red-hot on his fingers. He held on the wand tightly as the magic flowed out of him. He couldn't hold for much longer._

_He did not need to. Voldemort was not expecting a massive rush of magic, and not towards his left. The spell slammed into him with such force that he was lifted off his feet and thrown four of five metres behind._

_Harry walked up to Voldemort, shaking hard and finding it so hard to hold the wand. He barely had any magic left in him. Save for one more spell._

_Voldemort opened his eyes and raised his hand instinctively. But his wand was yards away from him, having fallen as he was in mid-air. He got up to his feet, but Harry took another step closer, and Voldemort stopped moving._

_"You..." Voldemort began, as he got to his feet.  
_

_Harry didn't let him finish. They had said what was necessary. No more procrastination, no more openings to allow Voldemort the opportunity to snake his way out of this one. Harry held his wand as steady as he could (it shivered as his weary hand still shook) and said the two necessary words._

_Harry's lips parted, the necessary words tumbled out, and then... the flash of green._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Stay down!" Harry shouted.

He, Hermione, and Ginny found themselves pinned to the wall of the cafe, with their table on it's side as a shield.

Harry had no idea what happened. The moment he had greeted them in his 'voice', a bang cracked the air around him. Diving forward, he saw Ginny and Hermione jump in his direction too.

The gunshots did not stop, and as they got their table to protect them, Harry saw Sinclair lying face down on the ground, blood pouring from the back of his head.

The attackers had no uniforms, and as such, Harry found himself twisting his head wildly from side to side trying to determine how many assailants there were and where they were. He counted two right from the off, and had one down from a spell within seconds. The other, however, leapt to cover before Harry could throw a spell in that direction.

"Apparate away!" Harry shouted. "Now!"

Hermione hesitated. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"No, Hermione," he shouted. "There could be innocents targeted here."

"They're muggles," Ginny yelled into the conversation. "They're targeting us, not other muggles."

"They're the Freshners and are pissed at an attack made on them," Harry yelled, cursing in his mind. He must've been spotted by one of the gang-members, as Harry, before he applied the appropriate glamour near the cafe. This was precisely why he had a cover in Wayne; Harry was known by the muggles, and he didn't want them thinking he was doing more than just protecting the likes of kidnapped wizards and witches. Hermione was well-known as one of the fighters against Voldemort, and also because she with a muggle record, and Harry wanted nobody to see her.

"Absolutely not," Hermione shook her head. "We're doing this together. You can't handle that alone."

"They know you," Harry shouted. "They don't know me. For once Hermione, just listen to me!"

Harry bit his tongue at that; Wayne wasn't supposed to know Hermione. Her eyes narrowed, but he couldn't tell whether it was due to him ordering her or her noticing it.

"Ginny," Harry yelled. "Please take Hermione and clear out."

"No can do," Ginny smiled. "I've got to return the favour of you saving my life."

Argh, Harry growled. "Fine," he said. "Back me up, and do nothing more. If I find myself in danger, apparate out quick."

Harry looked around the table, as the bullets continued to be shot at them. The indiscriminate nature of the shooting told Harry this was meant to be a publicity for maximum carnage. The attackers wanted Harry to hit them back hard. He would have to approach this cautiously, but if violence was necessary, he wasn't going to shy away from it.

He threw a Reducto curse as he pointed his wand around the table as well and watched their distraction as the large tree behind them fell near them due to having a large hole in the bark. He quickly leapt to his feet and threw a stunning spell to one of the gunmen who was standing behind a car.

Another of the attackers turned the gun to him, but Hermione knocked the attacker aside with a spell, while Ginny simply sent a cloud spell to surround the area. Hermione and Harry made a quick clearing spell around them, it didn't make things perfect but they could see around the location better than the muggles at least. Any advantage should be good enough.

Suddenly a pain erupted in his right leg. He looked down to see his shin bleeding from the bullet-wound. He threw a stunning spell at the muggle that sneaked behind him (impressive too, the back of Harry's mind noted), and then whispered a spell to stop the bleeding for now and another to temporarily numb the leg from pain.

In his annoyance, he let out a large flame and destroyed the car that the previous attacker was hiding behind. As the car burned wildly, the attackers decided to run away from it, fearing it would explode perhaps, and thus left themselves to the open. Harry stunned as many as he could, but it was difficult through the fog.

Harry saw, as the fog lifted suddenly, only one attacker was left, who quickly pointed his gun at Hermione. Shouting her name, he threw a powerful spell at the one with the raised gun. However, unaware, Ginny was running in the fog to his left and had just reached in front of Harry when his spell was flying.

Harry watched with horror as he saw his spell rip through her shoulder, sending blood splashing and bone shattering with Ginny collapsing, unconscious before she even hit the floor. The spell was so powerful that even though going straight through Ginny's shoulder with little resistance, it still was powerful enough to lift the attacker off his feet and knock him back.

Harry told Hermione to take Ginny to help. After Hermione made a Portkey and got Ginny out of there, Harry turned to deal with any attacker he could find. He levitated one and apparated the both of them away.

He was going to get some answers. Now.

What Harry wasn't aware of at that time was the extent of the damage around him. Twenty-three bystanders were dead, four of whom died due to the car exploding while the rest died due to gun-wounds.

Harry wasn't also aware that this incident would spark fury in the muggle world and provided the hardliners in the muggle government one more argument they wanted to make their case for striking back at the wizarding world hard.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The man woke up in a place he never saw in his life. In front of him, seated on a chair, were one of the people he was fighting, however with one lamp in the room he couldn't tell quite what the person's mood was in. The cold hard stone under him was most uncomfortable but he tried not to let it show.

"So, who're you meant to be, mate?" he asked.

"Never mind me," said the person. "Who sent you?"

"Don't have the foggie... aaaaaaaaaaaargh!" he ended with a scream because suddenly his arm was on fire.

And then, just as suddenly, it no longer was. As the burnt shirt smoked, he looked angrily at the person, who didn't twitch a muscle.

"Who sent you?" said the person, without a change in the tenor of his voice.

"I'm one of the Freshners," said the man.

"Revenge, then?"

"No, we were told to attack Harry Potter," said the man, gasping as his arm still hurt. "To kill him, but we saw him meet you and then disappear as you were alone, so we were told to attack you instead as we lost Potter."

"Where did the orders come from?"

"I don't know... no wait!" he yelled. "I don't honest. My superior tells me and we do it."

"Never mind that," said that voice shrouded in the darkness. "I can guess who made the call for a head as big as Potter's."

There was silence for awhile, broken by the man on the ground.

"I suppose you're going to kill me now?" he said, shakily.

"Now, if I did that," said the voice. "I'd be as bad you guys. I know who you are and where you live. If I find you attacking any magical person or place again, or even help someone who wishes to, I'll find you no matter where you hide in the world. And you'll beg for mercy.

"Now get lost."

The man on the floor was about to ask how, but he saw the world around him disappear as he felt a very uncomfortable feeling. At no point did he see the man in the chair move.

Harry had read the man's memory the moment the man locked eyes with him. The only thing he couldn't find out was whether they figured out he was Wayne, and he was pleased to see the man didn't. It was bad enough they made a public spectacle, but if they knew Harry Potter was doing this, things would go bad quickly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hermione left the Healer's room at Hogwarts castle drained late that night. Ginny had lost so much blood so quickly the Healers were working recklessly in trying to save her. While one Healer assured Hermione that Ginny was brought to them in good time, it was a terrible injury and which Ginny would require a day's rest. Ginny was fortunate that the spell did not hit the part of her back right behind her heart, said the Healer shaking his head, otherwise Ginny would've dropped dead immediately.

If she saw that dimwit Wayne again, she'd hex him so hard his parents would feel it, Hermione thought with fury. What on earth possessed the bastard to utilise a spell that powerful?!

She stopped having seen Wayne seated in a chair nearby, with his head in his hands. Normally her eyes would soften, but she didn't even know who this vigilante was or what he wanted. She wasn't kidding when she told Draco and Harry that she questioned whether he was a Dark Lord in training. Otherwise why the obsession with doing it alone?

"She's doing better now," Hermione said. He finally looked up at her. "She lost a great deal of blood, and it'll take a few days for her bones to heal, but she'll be fine."

"Merlin," he sighed. "That was a close one."

"Why did you use such power?" asked Hermione.

"I saw the guy about to shoot you...had to act...she got in the way," he mumbled, "no time to pull back..."

"Would you care for a bite to eat?" Hermione asked. "It's been hours, you must be famished."

He accepted and followed her to the kitchen, trying his best to not give the impression he knew or did not know how to go around the castle.

"So Mr. Wayne," Hermione said, turning her head back. Harry tried to not get distracted by the tendrils of hair that hit his face. "What graduating class of Hogwarts were you in?"

He smiled at her, but remained silent. At his lack of response, Hermione huffed.

"Sorry for asking you such a top-secret question such as when you went to Hogwarts," she said. "Excuse me, 007."

"You don't approve of what I do," he said as they sat down and the elves provided them with sandwiches, not asking but noting a reality.

"That obvious, Mr. Bond?" Hermione said, still annoyed. Harry bit his lower lip trying to prevent himself from laughing. "I don't trust lone wolves."

"No, I suppose you shouldn't," he nodded, "not knowing my motivation and all, right?"

"Precisely," Hermione said, but softer now.

Harry chewed quietly, and after swallowing he continued, "My goals are the same as your own. I've always felt like doing some things alone."

"I known people like that," Hermione said. "Trust me. But with you, nobody has ever heard of you. You aren't in any Hogwarts archive book, class book etc..."

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Miss Granger," he smiled. "Why assume I went to Hogwarts. I could've gone to Salem for all you know."

"So you're American?" asked Hermione.

"No," he replied, and he smiled at her huff of annoyance. "However, why do you care so much? We only met today. Even Ginny hasn't displayed this much interest, and I've met her a few times. Don't you go by aliases, too, Miss Granger? I believe you were known as Silver Fire to a few."

"Yes, I have," she said. "And I have no idea how you could know of this. But you don't seem alone by necessity. You seem alone by nature. Nobody has ever heard of you. And if you're not British, then why would you give a damn about what happens in Britain?"

"Hey, I might like the weather," he said, grinning. "Or I may like the action."

Hermione was not amused.

"Look, we're not friends," he said. "We don't know one another. I have my reasons. Notice I haven't asked you to reveal your secrets?"

"I don't think it's too much to ask someone just to say a little about themselves," Hermione said.

"To some, it is too much," he said firmly. "Also, I'm providing some help, and unless I start acting unacceptably, why not just take it?"

Hermione nodded at that. Harry decided to switch subjects.

"Tell me, Miss Granger," he began. "You have the look of a Quidditch fan in you."

Hermione's laugh at that assumption broke the tension and they spent the next half an hour talking about meaningless topics until Wayne decided to thank her for her company, apologised again about Ginny and asked Hermione to send his regards and apologies to Ginny, and he left the castle.

Once Harry was a far enough distance, he was left with a bit of an issue. He couldn't simply go back into Hogwarts right after Wayne left; it was too suspicious.

But where on earth was he going to sleep that night? And he was _tired_.

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A/N: I've finished the next chapter, and I'm only polishing it up a bit before I let that through too.

_Review button's below. Go on, click it. I don't think it bites...  
_


	20. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: This is somewhat like a co-chapter with the previous one, so it works out well with them coming out one day apart.

* * *

Chapter 19  
Mayhem amongst Muggles

Harry sat down at his table tiredly after finishing another long day. He had lifted his feet onto the table when a knock sounded at the door. He interrupted each word with a swear word as he told the person at the door to come in. Malfoy entered the room sheepishly.

"You said you wanted to talk to me, Harry," he said.

"Have a seat, Malfoy," Harry said.

As Malfoy sat, Harry continued, "What was it you were telling Lisa today at breakfast? I didn't hear much, but it sounded intriguing."

"I was telling her I heard from a few ex-Ministry contacts some very odd rumours," he said.

"Go on."

"Well," Malfoy rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to go on. "It sounded like they stumbled upon some potion that would affect only muggles and not the rest of us."

"And?"

"They're planning to pour it into the River Thames," Malfoy said. "But I know my potions, and haven't heard of one like that before. I've searched through as many Potion books today as much I could, but no reference. In fact..." he stopped as he saw Harry take off his glasses and wearily rub his eyes.

"You won't find it there," Harry sighed. "The muggles came up with it. A few tonnes of it were stolen by wizards."

"Oh shit!" Malfoy snarled. "Those idiots. Do muggles drink from the Thames?"

"Fuck do I know?" Harry replied.

"Even if not, it could get into the vegetation..." Malfoy mused.

"I don't know how it works," Harry said. "And I doubt those buggers know for sure either. We don't have time to check either. Get Hermione and Ron over. I'll look for possible areas they'll strike. Did you hear of any location?"

"Well, we're in luck there," said Malfoy. "I distinctly remember him saying he was in Oxford at the time. We could follow their trail from there."

"What idiot would tell you what they were doing?" Harry asked in some surprise.

"He's a long-time contact in the Ministry," Malfoy said. "Besides, I doubt they think they'll be stopped by wizards, right?"

"Anyways, find Hermione and Ron and anyone else you can find in short time in the castle," Harry said, getting off his comfy chair reluctantly. "I'm going right now to Oxford, and I'll meet you there."

On his way out, Harry bumped into Ron himself. Quickly telling him that he was needed in Oxford, and that Malfoy would explain all that, Ron grabbed Harry's arm before Harry could walk away.

"Hang on, you're not going?" Ron said, clearly confused.

"Of course I am," Harry said, shaking off Ron's hand.

"Harry, the muggles know you," Ron said. "They consider you the only person they could negotiate with now with the Ministry gone. If you're seen in an attack scene, and they don't believe the idea that you were trying to stop things from happening... things could get ugly."

"If the attack occurs, it'll be a moot point," Harry shot back. "They'll want all our heads."

"Hermione and I will deal with this," said Ron. "We'll get Dean and Seamus to come along too."

"So you want me to sit and do nothing?" asked Harry. "I don't do sitting and doing nothing."

"You're a leader now, Harry," Ron said. "Leaders delegate."

Harry grumbled what he'd like to delegate Ron to do with a broomstick, but kept silent. Ron said nothing but grinned as he waited.

"Fine, go off before I change my mind."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Thank Merlin we're dealing with stupid wizards," Ron said. "With the outfits they were wearing, we've gotten enough eyewitnesses in Oxford to track their path along the river."

"One of them wearing a poncho," said Hermione with a grin, "the other wearing a cowboy hat. They couldn't be any easier to find."

They were walking outside the city of Oxford, south of it beside the river. So far, they couldn't find many other clues so they decided to follow the river's flow until they see something. After half-an-hour of walking, to Ron's disgust, Hermione finally agreed to use broomsticks.

"At this bloody rate," Ron spat as they kicked off into the air, "the wizards could be in London for all we know."

They flew low, in order to keep an eye on the ground, following the course of the river. They flew over Reading, and it was quite some difficulty trying to not be seen, until Malfoy said there really wasn't anything they could do about it and they should stick to the job at hand. Still, they each gritted their teeth when they noticed a person on the ground in the town look up and see them flying over.

About another thirty minutes after they left the town, they saw something on the ground and quickly flew down. They saw a group of wizards throwing spells at something. Touching down on the ground behind a few trees, they crept up to see what was going on.

Thirteen or fourteen wizards and witches were sending spells ferociously at a tree, and the tree kept holding firm at all the spells. Puzzled, it was only after a minute or so when Ron noticed an arm appear around the tree and spells cast from the wand attached.

"Let's go," Ron said.

"But...?" Malfoy said in question.

"Whoever it is," said Ron, "the person is fighting _them_. So he can't be that bad."

"He or she," corrected Hermione. "Wait... that's Wayne!"

As Hermione and Malfoy moved to enter the fight, Ron grabbed both their arms and pulled.

"What the bloody hell man?" Malfoy swore. "Now you want us to not go in?!"

"I've head Wayne fought a few times," said Ron. "I always wanted to see him in combat."

"Oh, that's positively Slytherin of you," Hermione snapped.

"I take offence at that," Malfoy shot at her.

"But strangely you don't deny it," Hermione sneered.

"Shut up and let's watch," said Ron.

And, to Hermione's disgust, they watched how Wayne fought with the wizards. It was quite messy, she thought to herself, Wayne moved with less grace and more brute force for her liking. She much preferred a graceful movement that helped her keep her balance. She noticed Ron seemed bothered by it.

Ron couldn't understand what he was seeing. He knew he saw someone fight like this before, but he couldn't tell who. The more the person fought, with his endless ducking (which was done far more often than needed) and usage of punches seemed to remind him of... remind him of...

"Oh bollocks," Ron hissed as he jumped over a bush into the fight.

Hermione and Malfoy, caught off-guard, quickly followed. Upon seeing reinforcements, the wizards decided to make a run for it, apparating away with numerous _pops_.

Wayne looked to his side finally and saw them. "Ah, the cavalry has arrived," he said with little humour.

"A thanks would do," said Malfoy.

"Now why should I thank you when you scared them off?" Wayne said back.

"They left the barrels, that's why," said Malfoy, nodded his head in direction of the large barrels standing beside the bush.

"What shall we do with it?"

"Destroy it, of course," said Hermione.

"We'll take them to Hogwarts and destroy it there," said Ron.

"I'm half tempted to pour it all around Hogwarts,"said Wayne. "So if the muggles ever put us under siege, they'd drink from the rivers and streams, eat from the vegetation and _au revoir_."

"Yes," was Hermione's reply. "How ingenious."

"Really?" asked Wayne, surprised.

"No, not really," said Hermione. "Sarcasm isn't one of your strong suits, is it?"

"You're really good at it," Wayne shot back.

"Who on earth told you about this?" she said coldly. "In fact, who invited you here?"

She threw a glance at Ron, and a glare at Malfoy, both of whom quickly shook their heads and Ron raised his arms in surrender.

"This is the first I met of this bastard," said Ron, with Malfoy nodding quickly.

"There could've been hundreds of muggles watching you fight!" Hermione yelled.

"Didn't notice any frankly," mused Wayne, stroking his chin. "Though I was distracted. Not too distracted not to notice you lot watching."

"We didn't want to cause more bangs for muggles to see us," said Hermione quickly.

"_Right_," said Wayne. "How's my sarcasm there for you?"

"We were planning to stealthily stop them!" growled Hermione.

"Sorry, luv, don't do stealth," said Wayne, who turned around to walk away. "I prefer the bangs meself."

"Luv?" Hermione gritted her teeth, and pulled out her wand. "Why you..." and proceeded to throw out a few swear words that made Ron and Malfoy raise their eyebrows in shock.

"Temper, temper, Miss Granger," said Wayne after chuckling, strangely enjoying himself far too much. "You never want someone to know they've been going under their skin."

Hermione huffed, and looked to Ron to say something, but was confused at Ron's face. He was positively loving this, holding his sides trying to somehow rein in his laughter, seated on a fallen tree. When he saw her looking at him, Ron tried to shrug confusion, but it couldn't come out well with the massive grin on his face.

"If you'll excuse me, then," said Wayne. "I'll dispose of the barrels."

"Eh?" said Ron, hopping to his feet. "That's coming with us to Hogwarts. You can bet your last Knut that the muggles are watching us this very minute, and we're going to have not arouse their fears."

"I need to check it out," said Wayne. He needed to check with the scientist if a sample of each barrel accounted for what was stolen, or if some were still missing. He didn't want to have them hovering over him as he investigated, and the barrels _were_ going to Hogwarts anyways, just nowhere they could find it. "I'll give it to you at Hogwarts afterward."

"Sorry, tough luck," said Hermione, feeling pleased at Wayne's displeasure.

"Three against one, Mr. Wayne," said Malfoy quietly from the tree, the only one not moving. "Not good odds for you, I'd say."

"Then you weren't watching me fight very well, Mr. Malfoy," said Wayne, who's brown eyes flashed brightly as he pointed his wand at all three of them.

Hermione raised her wand again, while Malfoy jumped forward with his wand in his hand. Each of the three waited for the other to do something first.

"Oh come on!" said Ron, exasperated. "I've been biting my tongue for so long. But if you're going to start cursing one another..."

"What are you talking about, Ron?" said Hermione, worried.

"Oh come on," repeated Ron. "You really didn't notice?"

"Notice what?" asked Hermione. Ron saw Wayne turn his wand to the barrels and was about to say a spell...

"Hold your hand still, Harry," said Ron with a sigh. "Seriously!"

Hermione and Malfoy's mouths fell open. Harry's wand remained still in mid-air, but Harry's head turned to Ron.

"Fucking waste of time, this is," Ron sighed. "The muggles could be taking over the world, and you're bleeding going undercover and not telling us?!"

Harry looked at Ron shrewdly, and was about to deny it but changed his mind.

"What gave me off?" he said, tilting his head.

"You're fighting," said Ron, tilting his head. "Surely you couldn't have changed your style. I'd recognise you through your fighting if you pretending to be a female."

Hermione was getting a headache, Malfoy was actually rubbing his head.

"H-h-Harry?" said Hermione, looking hard at him.

"Guilty," said Harry, looking around, "but don't make me switch back here. Ron seems to have noticed muggles watching us, but I can't spot them."

"There are two across the river while..." Ron never finished the words, because at that moment a massive red spell hit Hermione right between her shoulder blades. Falling down to the grass in a sickening crunch, Harry quickly turned his eyes at the assailant, and shook in fury.

Polanar.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry, Ron and Malfoy dove to the ground as Polanar threw three more spells at them and then flew over the them and over the river on his broomstick.

Harry dove to his pocket and removed a pouch, and took out his wand from it. (Useful things, the wizards could come up with, small pouches that could hold unbelievably larger objects)

He jumped on the broomstick, and turning back, yelled at Hermione to take Ron to safety. Ron protested Malfoy could do it and he could help.

"Unless either of you has a broomstick, get Hermione and every single one of those barrels to Hogwarts," Harry yelled.

"Harry!" yelled Ron jogging closer to Harry. "Let me get my broom. I can come later."

"I'm not coming back until Polanar stops breathing," Harry growled, and made a shove on Ron's shoulder. "Now go! Hermione needs you. You're in charge of Hogwarts if I don't return."

Harry stayed for a moment, but kept his eye on Polanar, who was flying high above, seemingly waiting for Harry to fly over to him. Harry waited until Malfoy spelled all the barrels out while Ron apparated Hermione out of the vicinity. Harry winced for Hermione, apparating in that condition must've been painful.

He wasn't kidding this time, Harry thought as he flew high into the air with the high speed which would make most wizards and witches sick but rarely fazed him. Polanar was an anomaly in the system; loyal to none but himself and playing by rules only he cared about, he could not be trusted nor reasoned with. The mere idea of a muggle-born wizard siding with Voldemort only to side with the muggles now would've been so laughable had someone told him about it.

Polanar looked to his watch as Harry reached him.

"About time, Wayne," he said with a sneer. "Any longer and I'd have thought you simply buggered off with that lass."

Polanar quickly moved his broom away from the red curse curse Harry sent him. "Tsk, tsk, not one to talk? I was curious as to who you were."

Harry wasn't interested now, having talked enough previously. He simply threw another curse.

"Temper temper," said Polanar, who suddenly flew east.

Harry followed him, pushing his broomstick as fast he could. Polanar wasn't a bad flyer, but Harry was another league. Harry smiled as he thought that Polanar wouldn't have dared used a broom if Polanar knew it was Harry he was dealing with; he completely changed the battlefield to Harry's advantage.

Harry wondered if Polanar was beginning to realise this when he saw Polanar's confusion at Harry's ease at matching Polanar's speed, and Harry was doing it with one hand as his other had a wand. Harry grinned as he threw another spell at Polanar, who barely dodged it by pulling up hard on his broom. Harry followed upwards, and quickly changed directions when he saw Polanar pull down.

Harry matched Polanar all the way down, almost playing a broomstick version of chicken with who'd pull up first, Harry wasn't pulling up and displayed no interest in doing so while Polanar's eyes widened in fear. Harry would bet every single Galleon in his vault that Polanar never even dreamed of pulling a _Wronski Feint_.

Just as Harry suspected, Polanar pulled up quickly with another 50 meters left until reaching the ground. But as Harry pulled up lazily, he noticed they had reached London. Harry had no doubt that Polanar would not hesitate to use muggles as targets to distract Harry, but Harry had to force Polanar to keep moving. At this speed, Polanar would not risk apparating; he'd splinch every limb of his body.

As they flew over London, Harry had to force Polanar away from the direction of the Heathrow airport, of which they were approaching very closely. Harry wasn't sure what it was like flying near a plane, and wasn't interested in trying at the moment. Quickly flying to Polanar's other side, Harry swung towards Polanar, forcing Polanar to alter his course. It succeeded to go away from Heathrow, but they both flew deeper into London to Harry's fear. The muggles were going to be furious.

Polanar threw a few spells over his shoulder at Harry as they continued to fly fast, with Harry dodging all of them and easing back further from Polanar so as to not get caught off-guard. Harry sped up close to Polanar and threw a spell at his back, but Polanar moved to the left right before it hit.

Polanar seemed to think he could use the muggles to his advantage, as he suddenly flew downwards much closer to them. While the many houses were still below them and of no threat at the moment, buildings were fast coming in their way. Harry put his wand back into his shirt and handled the broom with both hands again. Keeping as close to Polanar as possible, Harry decided to wait as patiently as he could until he could somehow curse Polanar off the broom.

At one point Harry had his eye on Polanar and only realised something was in front of them when Polanar pulled up again. Looking forward, Harry saw a bridge fast approaching, and not having any time to pull up, Harry rolled over his broomstick until he was hanging upside-down and pulled up on the broom (up in his view would be down in the normal way), and Harry flew under the bridge.

Polanar saw Harry make the Sloth Grip-like roll he moved even more erratically for a time, and threw curses at as many stone structures as he could, to break large chunks to force Harry to go down and help the people. Harry tried to slow the fall of some of the breaking pieces, some of them as big as a car, but he held firm to chasing Polanar; to do otherwise would let Polanar escape and he did not know if he would get another chance.

However, Polanar had to slow down to take out his wand, and this gave Harry the chance to take out his as well and scream, "Expelliarmus!"

Polanar's wand flew off his hand with a shout from him, and Harry grinned; he had Polanar now trapped. Without claws too.

Or so Harry thought. Polanar stopped his broom and turned to face Harry who was fast approaching him, and swiftly moved his hands in maddening directions. Harry suddenly felt his chest burn. Smelling smoke, he squeaked a yelp as he looked down to see his clothes on fire.

In his utter concern at the fire on his clothers, Harry forgot to slow his broom and continued to fly at top speed at Polanar, who realised that far too late. With a scream from Polanar, the front of Harry's broom slammed into Polanar's chest, knocking him clean off his broom with the cracking sound of broken bones from Polanar's ribs.

Harry saw Polanar fall down to the city and despite his wand movements incapable of putting out the fire, he did not move until he saw Polanar hit the ground. When he saw that, Harry concentrated hard, and spun on the broom, apparating himself away to Hogsmeade. He had to concentrate hard despite the immense pain, because Harry was apparating himself and not the broom which was on fire at this point and beginning to fall.

Harry was apparating without his clothes, either, which is a rather tricky manoeuvre to do at the best of times.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The muggles authorities got the testimonies of as many witnesses to today's events as they could. At the night, they reported to their superiors, who reported it to their superiors, who reported it to their superiors.

"Enough!" said the person at the head of a table early that evening, slamming his hand on the table. "This has gone on for far too long!"

"What can we do?" said another at the table. "We've hit their government building, their shopping district and the safe-houses we were given during their fighting with Voldemort. There's only one place to hit."

"Then hit it we shall," said the man. "This person has been seen attacking our buildings for information, seen at a fight near a river with barrels of stolen chemicals which harms us humans, fighting over London and not assisting when stone slabs fell and harmed a good number of our population. What more do we need?"

"Sir, there are serious consequences to that," said a quietly spoken man, who didn't even look up the table, his eyes focused on the table in front of him.

"Do I look like I give a damn about that mumbo-jumbo magic nonsense?" sneered the man.

"At least hear them out," said the softly spoken person, who was about to continue but got interrupted by the head of the table.

"No, no, no!" was the shouting reply. "Send word to that... _school_," he spat the word like a disgusting swear word, " that unless that broom flyer is sent to us immediately, it's effing war!

Meeting adjourned," he said, not waiting to hear anything and walking out of the room in fury.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Dean and Seamus walked near the Entrance Hall, each holding a plate of sandwiches and a flask and stumbling as they tried to walk to the Gryffindor common room.

"We're bloody wizards," chuckled Seamus, "and we're struggling with carrying them?!"

"Don't look at me," said Dean. "I was raised a muggle as a kid. I'm used to carrying stuff. What's your excuse?"

But Seamus never got a chance to reply as he saw the Entrance door open and someone stumble in. Squinting hard, he could've sworn it was...

"Harry?!" he exclaimed, dropping the sandwiches all over the ground as he put down the flask, while Dean did the same as they rushed to him. He was wrapped in a blanket.

"Why on earth is he smoking?!" yelled Dean in shock.

"I don't know, but let's get him to a Healer, and fast," said Seamus, who got us and waved his wand, "Mobilicorpus."

Dean ran ahead to warn the Healers that another was coming fast in need of assistance, with apparently multiple burns all over the body.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Late that night, _very_ late into the night, Ron got a letter from his owl from a contact in the muggle world who would send him some information from time to time.

_Authorities are furious. They want that wizard who was flying all over London, also seen fighting outside a cafe before which caused damage and injuries, and they want you guys to hand him over immediately._

_Any resistance, and the muggles declare war._

The letter was unsigned, as usual. Ron looked for a quill, dipped one in ink, and then quickly scrawled on a parchment.

_Then by Merlin's saggy left nut, let's have a war._

Ron stared at the owl for as long as it was visible under the brilliant moonlight. It wasn't a mystery what the muggles were going to do. There was only one distinctively magical location left in Britain.

No point waking up the inhabitants of the castle right now. They'll be pretty nervous come the morning, and they might's well have one more night of sleep.

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A/N: I've got the end in mind, but I'm still debating with myself.

Please review.


	21. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: First, take a look at the 'M' rating. There's violence in this chapter, quite a lot of it. A warning so you don't say you weren't told of it.

Jarno noticed that fighters usually tend to have a few styles ready, so Harry could've hid it. Now, I'd love to give an explanation as to how that would fit in the story, but I fear I may make a fool of myself. Instead, I'll point out that Ron has fought alongside Harry numerous times during the Voldemort war # 2, and as such would recognise a fair number of things Harry would've done even if he tried to change it. Also, that Harry didn't actually think his style would give him away, he was far more concerned about how he physically looked. I won't lie and say I have experience in knowing fighting styles and abilities to change them, but it is interesting. Thanks.

A warm thank you to DCoD as well for the reviews, and to the others.

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Chapter 20  
Target: Hogwarts

Blinding light hit Harry's eyes as he woke up, forcing him to quickly shut his eyes.

"I think I saw him twitch," he heard a voice say. Ginny.

"Do you think he's awake?" asked another voice.

Harry remained still as his head was pounding.

"I'm tempted to slap his burns right now," growled the second voice. Ah, it was Hermione. The only thing he had wrong now was the immense pain he had in his head, he felt only slight pangs on his skin.

"He even let me flirt with him as Wayne!" said Ginny in anger. Harry couldn't help grinning, he didn't take anything she said as flirting, did he? He couldn't remember and gave a shrug, and another sharp pain pounded the inside of his head leaving him to groan.

The voices stopped talking. After a moment, Harry rolled over and picked his glasses from the table beside him. He slowed his time in putting them on, and when Ginny and Hermione came into focus, he was unaware of who looked more annoyed.

"And how are my two favourite ladies doing today?" said Harry with a sheepish smile. Harry's smile disappeared at the words they threw at him.

"I can't understand what either of you are saying," Harry squealed, as Hermione threw a pillow at him. "One at a time, I was a man on fire, have pity."

"What the hell were you doing?" said Ginny. "Going off on your own?"

"I couldn't talk with the muggles in one hand, and then get caught in cameras fighting people," Harry said. "I needed some glamour spells."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione huffed.

"Because I needed you guys, who are also known by the muggles," said Harry, "to display as much lack of familiarity towards me as you could, in case anyone watched us. If they saw you treating me as some sort of leader you took orders from, they'd either put two together, or figure Wayne was some high level person with power in the wizarding world, and as such every act I did would be blamed on all of us."

"How about telling a few of us?" asked Ginny.

"Which few? The moment I told one of you, there are three others who'll be angry. Besides, I needed those of you closest to me to not get along with Wayne. I didn't want anyone to get a hint at all." said Harry back. "Should I have told Ron or you? Which of the two of you should I have told for example? "

"Me of course," said Ginny. Hermione spluttered.

"You?" she said. "Why you over me?"

"You got to go to all those adventures with him," Ginny said, crossing her arms. "Besides, I saw Wayne first." And she gave Harry a lascivious look. "Couldn't you remain Wayne for now, Harry? I'm not against _pretending_, you know."

Harry noticed Hermione was not impressed in the least with Ginny's actions, and he felt a bit pleased at that. Ginny winked at Harry when Hermione wasn't looking.

Harry gave a sudden start, and pain erupted in his head, when he heard a massive explosion somewhere in the castle. Hermione and Ginny didn't seem surprised enough.

"What the bloody hell is happening?" Harry yelled.

"The muggles have been trying to infiltrate the building all morning," Hermione said sadly.

"What?!" said Harry, looking at his watch on the stand. "All morning? It's 2 in the afternoon!"

"Yeah, we know, we've been awake," said Ginny.

"How the hell did they find Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"Polanar told them, maybe," shrugged Hermione. "Or maybe they always knew the general vicinity as we are under their rule."

"Not for much longer," said Harry. "This is breaking the bond."

"How far will they succeed before any of us gets a chance to reach the cave?" said Hermione.

"Let's go do something," said Harry.

"Ron and the others are dealing with it," said Hermione. "Nothing we can do, my back feels like hell spat on it..."

"I can't lift my arm because of my shoulder," said Ginny. "And you were flaming like a kebab."

"We can't sit here," said Harry. "If the muggles break through, who knows what they'll do to us."

"We can't do anything, mon cher," said Hermione. "This fight is not yours to do Harry. For once, you're going to have to sit back and let someone else do the crazy things."

They sat quietly for a time as the bangs occurred a few more times, but then there was silence. They could feel the castle still now. They looked at each other, not sure what to say now.

After another long pause, the door to the Healer room opened with a bang, and a number of Healers rushed into the room, conjuring new beds to squeeze into the old ones. Harry gritted his teeth. This was not good. And his intuition was right. Injured person after person kept coming into the infirmary, some he recognised, others he didn't. A few of them were quickly removed after realising they had passed away to leave the bed for another one that came in. The entire place was in mayhem, people getting each other's way, the moans and screams of pain, Healers shouting for supplies and potions, wand-waving spells and charms... and the blood, the blood.

Harry, Hermione and Ginny were told to leave their beds for the injured, and as they sat at the back in chairs, watching what was happening, none of them said what they feared was happening. Nobody had the time to explain to them if the muggles succeeded or not, or anything at all. Not until...

A massive whoop seemed to break the entire tense scenes as a new injured person was levitated into the room, a person with blood covering all over the top part of his shirt. It took awhile for Harry to notice the person was red-headed and not covered in blood in his hair too.

"Did you see that Dean?" shouted Ron. "I got the wanker. I got the wanker!"

"Yes, Ron," said Dean with a shake of his head. "I was there."

Dean looked terrible, and Harry realised why as he noticed that right after them, Seamus was levitated into the infirmary looking, while not as bad as Ron, terrible and unconscious. A large wound could be seen on his head.

"Don't worry about Seamus," yelled Ron, who Harry was now wondering if he was affected by drugs. "One muggle, two muggle, three muggle, four. Ron's got them all right at the door! Tell them all Dean, tell them all!"

"Yes, I shall inform the underground hip-hop scene," said Dean. "Should I also tell them if it's a freestyle or something written beforehand?"

"What in the blazes is wrong with him?" Hermione asked Dean, rushing towards him.

"He was hit with alot of bullets," explained Dean with a half-smile. "And the bugger tried to continue fighting by increasing his adrenaline by charming himself with one of those spells that give you a rush..."

"And he went overboard with the spell?" asked Hermione.

"No, not exactly," said Dean. "It wasn't working fast enough, so..."

"No..." said Hermione. "He spelled himself again?!"

Dean nodded, and Hermione swore. She turned and ran to the Healer to tell him about this. Dean looked at Harry, who shrugged in confusion as he saw the Healer's eyes widen and rush to the potion cabinet as Hermione quickly whispered as many spells at Ron's chest in the meantime, one of the first putting Ron to sleep. The Healer returned with a bottle and poured a potion into Ron's mouth, but Hermione grabbed the bottle and waved her wand to conjure up a syringe. She waved her wand again, and the contents of the bottle appeared inside the syringe. She then ripped open Ron's shirt, and stabbed Ron in the chest with the syringe.

"Holy shit!" shouted Dean.

Hermione quickly said to the Healer to heal up Ron's chest and she shakily walked back to Dean.

"The idiot almost killed himself," she said. "That spell needs a couple of minutes to reach the organs. To make it twice in quick succession created a massive risk for a heart attack. How long has it been since he made the spell?"

"Ten, maybe twenty minutes," said Dean. "I can't remember. Time seems different during the fight."

"We'll have to wait and see," said Hermione. "The fact he hasn't had a heart attack by now is a good sign, and some papers say an overdose may take forty-five minutes to an hour for it to be irreversible, but there's no sure consensus. He must've been somewhat wild," Hermione finished.

"He was a rabbit on speed," said Dean. "He didn't stop moving. In fact, that could've saved our lives as he ended up doing things no sane person would."

"The spell has side effects," said the Healer. "A burst of confidence is one of them, two bursts in this case. He should be fine after some time, but he'll be at the bed for days until his heart settles."

"Ron Bilius Weasley," sniffed Ginny, who had remained still with shock with all the events. He remained unconscious as she hugged him and sobbed hard into his still blood-stained chest.

"Four bullets," said the Healer, "multiple bruises, and was he _cut in the chest_?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "There was one muggle who took sadism to another level. The many other muggles seemed to want to secure the place. But that bastard went for blood."

"So, what else happened?" asked Harry. "Did you push back the muggles out of the castle?"

"Yes, but wait until Seamus and Ron wake up for more details," said Dean. "We were separated a few times, so I don't know what they did."

Dean entered the room that evening, with a trolley filled with food for the patients. Seamus and Ron didn't wake up yet. He saw Hermione, Ginny and Harry snuggled in two chairs in the corner, the only places available in the entire room. Ginny was asleep with her head leaning on Harry's shoulder, while Hermione was sitting sideways one Harry's lap, so her back wasn't toughing anything. Harry's problem was he couldn't move his head as Hermione was leaning on his other shoulder. A part of him wanted to complain, but the rest of him told it to shut up.

Harry's eyes opened as he saw Dean seated on the floor with a sandwich in his hands. He watched enviously as Dean ate, and Dean wasn't helping with his contented smile which sprang the moment Dean noticed Harry's attentions. Git, Harry mouthed to him. Dean further slowed his eating and closed his eyes.

After half an hour of persistent glaring from Harry, Dean and Harry finally found a way to get food into Harry's mouth which resulted in Dean feeding Harry. They were both stunned neither Hermione nor Ginny woke up. Harry's mouthed a thanks at Dean when he was done.

By the time nightfall came, Harry figured it must've been bad for his skin for Hermione to press into him for so long. Luckily, a few patients were discharged with relatively less serious injuries and three beds were free. Dean got Ginny to a bed, but Hermione held on to Harry and neither Dean nor Harry could get her off him. After she mumbled a refusal along with 'sod off', Dean raised his hands in defeat. Harry shrugged and carried Hermione to a bed and lay down with her. Dean went to take the third bed himself, too tired to go up to the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione's arm wrapped around Harry's waist as he lay down, and he could've sworn he heard a groggy, "Goodnight," from her before he fell asleep himself.

Early next morning, Ron and Seamus woke up first, and by the time Harry awoke, he saw them in deep discussion, each holding two sandwiches and a glass of orange juice. To mere mortals, that would be confusing to hold all that, eat _and_ have a conversation. But to Ron and Seamus, it was too easy.

Harry saw that Ginny, Dean, and Hermione beside him were all still asleep. He got up and went over to Ron's bed, sitting on the end.

"How are you feeling, mate?" asked Harry in concern. "You, too, Seamus?"

Both answered with a fine, and Ron continued, "A Healer just told me that Hermione stabbed me near my bleeding heart. Is she mental?"

"Are you mental?" asked Harry. "Two adrenaline spells in a row as it wasn't working fast enough? Hermione said you could've had a heart attack."

"Bah," waved Ron aside. "Worth it, I say. Ended up rushing around like there was no tomorrow, and stunned some of the muggles into holding back."

"Dean said you separated," said Harry. "What happened?"

"Well," said Ron, "we'll need Dean to fill in his bit."

"We'll wait until he wakes up," said Harry. Seamus was confused.

"Wait?" said Seamus. "What for?" He crumbled a wrapper of one of the sandwiches and threw it at Dean. It missed. He threw another and missed. He leaned over to pick up a pillow and threw it at Dean, which hit it's target, who woke up with a start, looking left and right dazedly. Once he saw it was Seamus, he proceeded to swear viciously at him, including advice on what to do with a broomstick with a porcupine tied at its top.

"Never mind that," Seamus hissed. "Clean yourself and come over here."

Still muttering a number of swear words, Dean did just that and sat on the bed after ten minutes or so. He grabbed Seamus' last sandwich and the remaining contents of the flask of orange juice. Seamus held his cup away from Dean triumphantly, but Dean shrugged and proceeded to drink straight from the flask. After putting down the flask, he flipped the middle finger at Seamus for one final insult.

"So, why did I have to wake up?" he asked, and then took a bite of the sandwich.

"We need to tell Harry, and one another," said Ron, "what we did yesterday."

"Oh, yeah," said Dean. "You go first, since you got word we were going to get into a fight."

"Wait," said Harry. "How did you know this Ron?"

"I got word from the Ministry the night before yesterday," explained Ron. "They wanted you, or Wayne that is, after the damage he caused. It was that, or a conflict. I told them they could stuff it."

"Why didn't you tell me first?" asked Harry angrily. "I would've let them take me as Wayne to buy you guys time to get something done. I would've tried to escape too."

"I didn't tell you because one," said Ron, numbering with his fingers, "you were unconscious. Two, I knew you were going to accept and that was a no-no. Three, you weren't escaping anywhere once they broke your wand if you tried to sneak it along. Four, they would've injected you with whatever magic-blockers they had. And five, I wouldn't trust one of their over-zealous guards to not shoot you in the very first night. Good enough reasons?"

Harry kept silent.

"I didn't get woken up for this," said Dean with a yawn. "Come on Ron, start."

"Well," started Ron, " like I said I got word of their warning and I told them to stuff it. I left the castle to go to sleep for one more night as the muggles would have to prepare in the daylight first by the time my owl reached them. Thing is they came earlier than expected..."

And with Dean and Seamus filling in their bits, Harry got a glimpse of the day's events.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ron woke up the castle very early in the morning by letting out loud sounds. He really wasn't bothered to go to each common room to ask them to get up, that was Hermione's style.

A few of the castle inhabitants ran out into the Hogwarts corridors in their nightgowns and pyjamas wondering if there was an evacuation. Ron told them to get back, change and get to the Great Hall immediately.

"I'm not bloody joking," he yelled as he roamed in the corridors in a manner which might've made Snape himself proud. "And wake up the buggers who're staying in bed by using cold water on them if you want."

"Seriously, Ron," said a voice beside him. Ron looked to see it was Malfoy, who didn't seem like he was sleepy or that he even hurried to dress. "What's with the yelling?"

"Muggles, coming," was all Ron had to say for Malfoy to get it. "Get some anti-muggle traps in the corridors in case they break through. I'll deal with the outside."

Ron reached the Great Hall, and saw Dean and Seamus running down. He swiftly told them what was happening and told them to make as many spells and traps around the castle they could think of. Ron entered the Great Hall and sat down to have some breakfast until the people came down.

Once enough were there, Ron stood up to address the room.

"The muggles are going to hit us soon," he said. "I don't know when, but I figure it'll be today with yesterday's warning being a formality and them already prepared. Because of that, I don't have time to explain much apart from muggles are coming."

The murmuring became loud discussions at that. Ron yelled them to shut up.

"Those who wish to make a run for it," he said. "Go ahead. But I can neither tell you which direction to go. I got the Hogsmeade inhabitants to come over during the night, and as such you won't have anyone to contact there in case the muggles are already there. Anyone wants to go through the Forbidden Forest... feel free.

"To the rest, though," Ron continued. "We have no choice but to hold here. Any remaining children will go immediately to the Gryffindor, and the Gryffindor alone, common room and will not open the door for anyone! If the person on the other side does not know the password, they cannot enter unless one kid recognises the voice. The four founders have put immense protections at the four entrances so they will withstand whatever the muggles come up with. I have alerted the French Ministry of Magic that should Hogwarts fall, they would infiltrate the building and Portkey you out. Teenagers 15 and over, while you have the decision to stay and fight or go help the other children, I need you to remain with the youngsters to keep them calm and safe. Make up a new password for the Fat Lady the moment you get back there. We cannot spare any adults, so may you have peace if this is the last you speak with me.

"The muggles cannot get a foothold in the castle. At first, try to not kill them if possible, but if they seem to be winning, use any means necessary. If Hogwarts falls, all magical Britain falls, which could embolden muggles around the world to hit wizards and witches everywhere. A victory here will strike a warning at the whole world not to fuck with us.

"Put yourselves into groups of four and whatever you do, do not be separated!"

Ron didn't wait to see who would stay or leave, turning to leave the hall and to help with the enchantments. But as he reached the Entrance Hall, a massive explosion rocked one side of the castle. Running to the door, he saw Dean and Seamus rushing back so he held it open for them. Looking far ahead, Ron could see a number of helicopters flying along a large number of artillery units looming in front of the rising sun.

The muggles seemed to have planned for this for a long time.

Ron shut the door, and applied as many locks on it as he could come up with. He then waved his wand and said a long enchantment, and the door disappeared with a wall appearing in its place. Bricks appeared all around him and piled up on the ground as Ron walked quickly away from the wall, and soon, the entire Entrance Hall became a large stone structure.

He unwrapped the Marauder's Map and watched how the dots spread across the floors of the castle. Dean, Seamus and Malfoy were waiting for him outside the Great Hall; they were his group.

"So what do we do?" asked Malfoy.

"We wait," said Ron.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A clinking sound echoed through the hall as a small object bounced on the floor to a stop. Nobody heard it as gunshots did not stop pounding their ears from all directions.

"Three muggles," screamed Seamus, pointing down a corridor, "down that way."

Malfoy's words were interrupted by the explosion the grenade made. Shaking his head from all the debris that fell on his hair, he tried to speak again, "Another five muggles down that way," he pointed in another direction.

Dean ran by them, and skidding to a stop, turned and joined them. "They've gotten in from multiple entries," he gasped for air. "We've got to bring our big guns now. There's this muggle who's shooting people at point-blank range, after they surrendered. He's a vicious son-of-a-bitch and we might want to make sure to get him."

Ron nodded. He pointed to Seamus, and pointed down one pathway, pointed to Malfoy and then pointed to a classroom. He pointed to Dean, pointed to himself and then pointed to another corridor. They moved out.

Seamus threw a spell which exploded in midair, and then he heard three bodies drop. Dealing with muggles individually was too easy, but they were coming into the castle by the hundreds.

Aircraft continued to pound the roof of the castle, causing great concern for Dean who stared upwards.

"Stop looking there," said Ron. "We'll have to deal with what we have in front of us."

At first, they faced nobody for quite some time. But after passing through the classroom Firenze taught Divination in their fifth year, they saw thirty or forty muggles in a large open part of the castle. Looking to their left and right, Ron could not come up with no one tactic to deal with them all. Dean looked at him and whispered they should split in either direction. Ron, reluctantly, accepted. He tip-toed to one corner and got took two slow, delicate, quiet steps when...

"Ruuuuun!" screamed Seamus rushing past them. Ron turned and noticed that a team was chasing Seamus and were already shooting. He swiftly made an illusory spell in front of them in mid-air, giving the impression there were wizards standing ready to shoot, while he made the same image for the muggles on the other side, the ones Ron and Dean were about to deal with.

Ron, Dean and Seamus ran for it as the outburst alerted the nearby muggles who swiftly turned to shoot the three, but got distracted at the apparent group of wizards who were pointing wands at them, and they shot as many bullets they could at them. On the other side, the other group of muggles were doing the same thing and shooting at their illusion.

Hopefully a good deal of them will be down before the spell disappeared, thought Ron as he pushed hard despite the sharp pain in his hip. A bullet had hit him. They continued to run down the long corridor, which ended at the staircase which led to the Potions dungeon.

Suddenly, they stopped. A small group of muggles pointed their guns at them at fifty feet or so. The three of them raised their hands, with their wands still being held. They looked at one another, unsure of what to do.

A shout came from above, and looking up they saw a person jump from the floor above onto the group of muggles. As Malfoy rolled over three of them which he collapsed, he yelled, "There's a massive fight up there, with that bastard too. Go! I'll deal with these guys."

Ron and Seamus didn't wait, but Dean remained behind and threw a few spells to help Malfoy out until most of the muggles were dealt with, and then turned to sprint upstairs and caught up with Seamus and Ron who jogged upstairs. As they ran upstairs, they heard explosion after explosion. At the top, they saw a stand-off of a large number of muggles hiding in the classrooms, behind desks, in corridors, everywhere really. Wizards and witches, though outnumbered, were putting up one hell of a fight with as many exploding spells as they could throw at the muggles along with a number of slashing spells going threw.

Ron raised his wand, but a hand suddenly appeared to his left, which smacked the wand hand back and then hit him in the face. Ron stumbled back, but still had the control to block the next punch.

This must have been that sadistic muggle Dean was talking about. His eyes displayed a maddening glee at the mayhem going on. Ron tried to throw a spell at him, but he kept blocking Ron's hand. The muggle didn't take off a gun at first, which was strange, but Ron wasn't letting him pull it off now, remaining as close to him as he could. It was difficult though, because while Ron had some hand combat skills through training, this muggle was clearly superior to him. Ron put his wand back in the holster and proceeded to use both hands when he could.

They stumbled into a classroom with the chairs and tables blown up everywhere. It was very difficult to move around, but Ron did not stop blocking the muggle.

Outside, Dean and Seamus cast numerous of spells to shut the doors of the many classrooms down the corridor ahead and lock the muggles already inside. Dean told Seamus to go help Ron and he'd stay there.

Seamus ran into the room a bit blindly, and got into the fight. The problem was, the muggle swiftly positioned himself between the two wizards and the door and continued to fight the both of them in hand-to-hand combat. Seamus, with no training in this regard, tried to help out as best as he could, but the muggle pounded him again and again with hits. In the middle of the fight, the muggle made a kick to Seamus' nose and while his foot was still in midair, he removed a small knife that was kept in the ankle of the foot that was midair. Seamus stumbled back in a daze, leaving Ron to deal with the muggle for a short while.

Ron tried to move back to take out the wand, but the muggle refused to give him the space, continuing to pound him back. As the muggle leaned down to elbow Ron in the midsection in an elaborate, unexpected move, he then quickly slashed upward with the knife in the same hand, making a large cut in Ron's chest. Ron fell to his knees, and the muggle took out his gun, aimed and...

Seamus' spell hit the muggle in the chest and as the muggle pulled the trigger, his arm was jerked back and the bullet hit Ron in the shoulder. The muggle ran out the door before Seamus could cast another spell.

On the other side, Dean was swearing quickly to himself. The muggles had shot through or blown open the doors and the entire corridor was filled with muggles in classrooms shooting at anything stupid enough to try to pass through the corridor. Dean suddenly became still as he heard a soft clinking sound through all the bangs of guns firing. He watched, paralysed with fear as a grenade fell five metres away from him.

Dean watched, stunned, as time seemed to lose all focus as a wizard (probably muggle-born knowing what it was) quickly left cover, grabbed the grenade and threw it back into the corridor. The wizard then jumped back around the corner as the grenade exploded in midair a few metres into the corridor. The gun fire stopped momentarily. Dean saw the wizard not get back up. As the wizard tried to jump back into cover, a bullet had hit him in the head, and the wizard remained still, a pool of red spreading on the floor.

"Which one of you wankers threw a grenade in close quarters?" screamed a muggle voice back there. "We have our own fighting down there too!"

"Go go go!" yelled Malfoy as he got up and ran into the corridor. This time, Dean didn't hesitate and jumped to his feet, rushing to catch up with Malfoy.

A rush of witches and wizards ran through the corridor, casting as many spells as they could into each classroom. The muggles were overwhelmed. Even if a classroom seemed to escape the worst of Malfoy and Dean's spells, the first to rush in the corridor, a number of wizards and witches running behind threw more spells into the room. Suddenly, transfigured furniture which turned into beasts were filling the room, loud bangs hurt the ears of any in the rooms, a few explosive spells ripped through everything in the room.

Dean turned back as he reached the end of the corridor to see their effectiveness. The entire corridor air was filled with dust and debris. He could barely see Malfoy run back through the corridor, sealing as many of the large holes which were door frames with stone. The other wizards and witches realised what he was up to and helped out with spells of their own. In the end, the entire corridor finally became silent.

"Are there any more left in the castle?" asked Malfoy.

"There were some near the kitchens," said one witch.

Malfoy waved that aside, "The house-elves would've finished them by now."

Ron coughed and reached Malfoy, "That crazy muggle is still around," he said, holding the Marauder's map. "There's only one group left on the map roaming the castle quickly, and he must have joined them because I don't see any individual moving right now. They're up two floors."

"Okay," said Malfoy, taking the map off Ron. "Now head to the Healers and get yourself fixed. You're in no shape to fight."

Malfoy and Seamus left with a number of other wizards and witches, but leaving the bulk of the people to deal with the defeated muggles. Dean remained with Ron for a bit as Ron started to mutter rebelliously, and waved a spell on himself. At Dean's inquisitive look, Ron explained it was only an adrenaline spell. Dean asked Ron if they'd get going before the fight above ended. Ron shut his eyes, leaning to the wall.

"One moment," he said. "It hasn't kicked in yet. Maybe it isn't enough."

"Ron..." said Dean cautiously, but Ron had already began waving his wand and saying the spell again.

After another 20 seconds, Ron pushed off the wall, shook his head quickly and his eyes burnt bright with anticipation.

"Now I'm ready," he growled, and ran off.

Dean chased him all the way two floors above, where another massive fight was occurring. The wizards and witches occupied multiple positions around a small group of muggle fighters, who had been pushed with their backs literally to a wall, but were unwilling to give up. The wizards seemed to be cautious to go close for fear of the muggles to throw caution to the wind and utilise grenades. To Dean's left he could see all the way down the many floors over a short barrier that reached his midriff. Malfoy was crouching behind a statue while Seamus was hiding behind an overturned table. He quickly ran for it, as it wasn't really effective in dealing with bullets, over to Malfoy. A bullet tore into his leg, though, as he ran and his fall ended with him hitting his head on the foot of the statue. He was out cold immediately.

Dean ran and then dove over to ground to push the lower half of Seamus behind the cover of the statue. He quickly crouched beside Malfoy, and pointed his wand around the statue and shot a few spells wildly. He turned to see Ron run right at the muggles.

"Bloody hell!" screamed Malfoy. "Give him cover!"

Ron was a bit of a cocky fighter, but this was ridiculous even for him, Dean thought as he made as many barrier spells he could come up with between Ron and the muggles. It held for now, but Dean couldn't tell how long he could hold it up.

The muggle who had given a beating to Ron and Seamus jumped over the muggle cover-spot and rushed to Ron, while the rest of the muggles dealt with the wizards and witches giving Ron support. Ron waved his wand and yelled "Expelliarmus!" which knocked the gun the muggle held in his had off. Before Ron could yell another spell, the muggle had reached him and slapped Ron's wand out of his hand. Ron growled and threw a punch at the muggle, who blocked it. Seamus threw a spell at the muggle, which missed him, but the muggle then swiftly stepped around to make sure Ron was between the muggle and the wizards. He also made sure to remain close to Ron so they wouldn't be able to risk casting a spell at the muggle for fear of it hitting Ron. This also prevented the muggles from attempting a shot at Ron, too.

The muggle kept beating Ron hard and harder on the face, but to the muggle's surprise, Ron came back for more, and hit him a few times too. Finally, Ron tripped the muggle and dove for the wand left on the floor. Turning round he saw the muggle back at his feet, and Ron threw a spell, which the muggle dodged expertly, and then threw another, which he dodged too. The muggles started to shoot at Ron, which while it gave an opening for the other wizards and witches to grab the upper hand of their fight, wasn't good for Ron obviously. A bullet hit Ron somewhere near where he assumed his right kidney was.

Groaning in pain, Ron pointed at the ground under the muggle and spelled it to be very slippery. The muggle immediately lost his footing and grabbed hold of the barrier which overlooked a number of floors below, and Ron got up, wincing in pain while doing so, and ran at the muggle. Right when he reached where he assumed the slippery floor began, Ron dove to the ground, and he slid quickly on the near frictionless floor until he reached the muggle.

Once Ron slammed into the stone barrier himself, he didn't hesitate and he grabbed hold of the muggles' two feet with each ankle held by one hand. Ron then, as hard as he could with no thought to the pain which got worse now, pulled back hard at it lifting the muggle over the barrier and the muggle fell through the many floors before hitting the ground with a thump.

Ron leaned at the wall and watched as the rest of the magical people subdued the remaining muggles.

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A/N: Please review, criticise what you don't like and point out what you thought worked.

There's either one chapter or two chapters left in this story, depending if I decide to write an epilogue of sorts or end it as such and leave the readers with the impressions of where the story ends up with (the latter is what I normally prefer). There will be no sequel. This is one story, one plot, and I never even entertained the idea of this story having a sequel.

I've actually been thinking of the concept of a fan-fic ever since I read the epilogue of Deathly Hallows, yeah long time, and I've finally begun the first chapter of it. I may, or may not, post the first chapter before finishing this story. It's a completely different genre to this one. That one should be solely a drama piece. Harry is the centre of that story too, though, as that's how I roll.


	22. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.**

A/N: Final chapter. Nothing to say, but here goes...

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Chapter 21  
For You To Be Free, First I Must Not Be

A thousand years ago, when the Normans finally took over England, Helga Hufflepuff, the final living founder of Hogwarts watched the scene with the deepest of apprehension and wishing her co-founders were here to see this with her. Salazar's fury would know no end had he found out that Norman wizardry had help force England's wizardry to fall under muggle monarchy, and this time Godric would not stand in his way. Even her own beloved Wales would surely fall to the Normans, and Rowena's Scotland would have to deal with them.

Hufflepuff went personally to the Norman wizards in the southern coast of England, despite the difficulties it caused her extreme age of two hundred and twenty-three, to appeal to have a talk with their magical leaders (she would not dare go to appeal to muggles). Hufflepuff's renown crossed far beyond Europe, and the Norman wizards overruled the muggle King in engaging in direct negotiations. They told the present Duke of Normandy, but soon to be King of England, that the idea of rebuffing Helga Hufflepuff would cause such furious from wizards and witches from the top-most corner of Scotland all the way to the lower borders of the powerful magical nation within Egypt. They warned him it was most unwise to infuriate so many magical people, and the consequences of such an act could result in devastating results.

As the highest leadership of wizards and witches in Normandy sat in the exquisite tent, sent from Normandy just to host Hufflepuff, waited for Hufflepuff's arrival, they discussed the honour they gained from meeting her in person. Wizard nobility from France, Norway, Flanders and Brittany showed up merely to observe the meeting and to go back to their people and tell them of her. The Norman wizards, keen to show of such connections, welcomed the other magical leadership with open arms. There was far too much gold and silk in the tent than was even commonplace for those of such wealth.

When Hufflepuff walked in, however, she wore a simple cloak and held a staff for support. She refused any assistance into her seat, struggling to reach it in her elderly state, nor did she not acknowledge the many nobles who stood up in her entrance and did not sit until she sat. Nobody in the room dared speak until she said her first bit, which came after a long, drawn-out, pause.

"I wish to speak as plainly as possible," said Hufflepuff slowly. "We are all magical people here. We are tied together through magical bonds that go beyond blood, wealth or status. The mere notion that one magical land falls to the hand of muggles due to the hands of other magical peoples' assistance is not only most troubling but a betrayal that will reverberate for centuries. For millennia."

"Lady Hufflepuff, we work with the muggle leadership, not under them..." began the Norman head, who swiftly shut his mouth at Hufflepuff's raised hand. She was not finished.

"You have made your actions," she said. "The judgement will come later when your lands fall under muggle leadership because another magical people descends to the level of servants for the muggles. Salazar would've had your head before you opened your mouth. Rowena would've been fine with your entrails, and Godric... who knows what he would've done?

"But what is done, is done," said Hufflepuff. "What I am concerned about is the welfare of future magical people here."

"The King has assured us that no harm would come to them," was said before another quick silence.

"And can he make an assurance his children will not harm them?" asked Hufflepuff softly. "Or _their_ children? Or the descendants?"

There was silence in the room.

"The first thing I wish to say is that Hogwarts was built with some of the most powerful magic these islands has ever witness," she continued. "It will not fall under muggle control. They will do nothing to it. If I had my way, they would not know it existed."

"That is unacceptable," a Norman said.

"I didn't not ask for your blessing," she said angrily. "Only your most powerful wizards and witches would be able to face a castle so formidable, and I have already contacted your most eminent wizards in Normandy," and then nodding to the foreign dignitaries, "France, Brittany, Russia, Spain and many other places. Not one replied to say they would assist you in attempting to seize Hogwarts. Is it still unacceptable, I now ask?"

There was another silence.

"As I expected," she said. "They know the fall of Hogwarts as a symbol in these islands would risk the symbols in all of the wizarding world.

"Coming to the next point," she said. "What precautions have you placed for us in case the muggles become oppressive?"

"Precautions?" asked the Norman wizard noble.

"Something that removes us from control," explained Hufflepuff with a sigh. "Do not tell me you have not even considered this?"

"Normandy has won," said the Norman noble loudly, getting to his feet. "We consider what we wish."

"I am not discussing Normandy and England," said Hufflepuff, with absolute disregard to the Norman's display of anger. "I'm discussing wizardry and non-magical."

A murmuring came from the foreign wizards, and the Norman noble, remembering who he was talking to, sat down quietly. In the silence that followed, all in the tent heard a Norwegian wizard tell a French one that the Norman was most fortunate to sit down, as he said he once saw Hufflepuff defeat thirty-three elite Norwegian wizards, and this was when she was an old woman of one hundred and seventy-three in age. A chuckle came out of most of the people in the tent at that. Hufflepuff still had her eyes focused on the Norman noble expressionless.

"I demand a precaution be set," she said, " to completely sever any bond made upon your rule should the muggles go beyond an acceptable line in dealing with the magical population. And this precaution must last for as long as necessary, disregarding whatever muggles take over the time's muggle leadership, until the magical population will one day be free from all rule."

"Why should I accept?" asked the Norman noble.

"To refuse," said Hufflepuff, "would not only show Norman magical enslavement to the non-magical leadership, it would also send a warning to other magical populations that the Normans wish to put magical populations in chains. Nobody would dare wait until the Normans become strong enough to defeat them."

The Norman head did not know to feel insulted at the first part, or cautious of the second. He noticed the foreign wizards and witches nodding in approval to Hufflepuff's words. One of the Brittany wizards was the first to speak.

"This would go down terribly back home," he said. "You'll find Brittany harder to keep if you antagonise the magical population."

"Especially when Hufflepuff goes there and appeals in person," said a French witch. "She is more beloved in France than my father, and he rules the magical people. They will not forget her assistance almost two centuries ago in saving half of France from the immense evil of Marquis Delanort. If she tells them they are in danger, they will believe her."

"The rest of the magical populations who can act could be convinced by her over you," said another wizard. "Even I do not understand your reluctance."

"We are all her bonded by magic," said a Flanders witch. "I find it dangerous that you speak like you're unaware of this."

The Norman leader was left with no other choice to talk with the new King of England. He offered to let Hufflepuff to speak to him, but she swore she would never exchange a word with him. After the Normans left the tent, Hufflepuff talked warmly with the foreigners. She had met and interacted with most of their parents, some of their grandparents and a few of their great-grandparents. After a long time, where Hufflepuff dined with them, the Norman noble returned.

"I have finally gained a reluctant concession from the King," he said.

Hufflepuff waited without comment.

"If there is an absolute betrayal on the parts of the muggles," said the Norman noble. "Then there would be an avenue for breaking the bond."

"Why not let the bond break the moment the betrayal happen?" asked Hufflepuff.

"The King wanted... a sacrifice," said the Norman noble. "To end the bond."

"What?" asked Hufflepuff.

"The sole wizard and witch to end it must give up his or her magic," he said. "For life."

For the first time, Hufflepuff expressed her power as the sparks that came out of her staff burst into six fires around the tent. "That is unacceptable. First, an absolute betrayal would mean the direct attack of muggles on all wizarding locations, including Hogwarts. And second, this sacrificial magic is more worthy of a Dark Lord."

"The King says there shall be no better offer," said the Norman noble.

"So be it," said Hufflepuff after a pause. "Get the arrangements made for a sanctuary for the wizard or witch to make the sacrifice in. I shall personally place spells on it to ensure safety for them."

The Normans used a cave high up in a rocky hill nearby as the sanctuary. Hufflepuff weaved as much magic on the place as she could come up with. And, to the Norman's ignorance, she applied a protection on the cave that no muggle could ever enter the cave , nor that the muggles could ever effect any harm on the location regardless of what power they utilised, be it magical or muggle, so long as the magical population remained in the bond.

It was only when Hufflepuff disappeared under a strong breeze was when the Normans, being a means utilized by the muggles, could not enter the cave.

They were also not informed prior to its casting that the final spell Hufflepuff added, with assistance from other wizards and witches while also manipulating the powerful spells the Norman's used with the muggle's agreement, was a far-reaching Obliviate spell that would affect every muggle in the islands. She was fortunate that she had known the witch who came up with that spell and had observed the intricate details in developing it, otherwise she wouldn't have known how to make it into effect. Hufflepuff dearly wished that she could've waved the spell right then and there to get rid of the accursed muggles, but unfortunately magic never worked that easily. It was the fact that the muggles had agreed to enter such an agreement, and that after a betrayal, the magical populations needed secrecy as a necessity that made it possible. Far more powerful spells are capable when the other side has agreed to it, even in part, to the circumstance. Thus sacrificial spells being the most powerful one of all. The wizard and witch needed to know he or she was giving up the magic for the cave to work, and Hufflepuff merely took advantage of that with the memory modification.

As the years turned to centuries, no magical person under the leadership could enter the cave. First it was nobility unable to enter, and then government. Wizards and witches who worked under the future Wizengamot or Ministry could not enter the cave so long as they remained in their jobs. At first, the cave enjoyed lots of visitors from all over. but as the centuries passed, it was left alone by all, forgotten by most.

After Voldemort's first fall, Dumbledore spent a time not working for the Wizengamot, spending it to rest after a weary many years. Before he rejoined the Wizengamot, however, he visited the cave to see the protection Hufflepuff left to the magical world. He walked towards a majestic stand that was erected in the centre of the cave, still free from the slightest of dust or dirt after almost a millennium.

On it were three vases, one made out of solid gold, one made out of marble and the last made out of clay. Underneath it was written:

_Before one fixes something, sometimes another thing must be broken. We come from and return to the same source._

_HH_

He admired Hufflepuff's magical abilities to produce writing whose words would change as the dominant language did, this was magic beyond what Dumbledore could do. Then Dumbledore grinned, as if privy to a hidden joke. And after realising he could not cross within a metre of the stand, he turned around with his purple robes billowing and white beard tucked in, and walked out of the cave.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Malfoy sat before the muggle general annoyed. Of all the people in the castle to talk with the muggles, _he_ had to deal with them? For goodness sake, he didn't interact with muggles. Becoming a professor in Hogwarts kept him further away from the muggles too. Malfoy feared that he'd say something stupid and the muggles would attack again with a larger force. He didn't even trust talking to them at all, for fear of him being killed, so he demanded to speak to someone high up. And to keep his wand.

"Well," he said. "What would you like to talk about?"

"Negotiations on what to do," said the general. "We cannot continue this forever."

"Cottoned on that, have you?" snarled Malfoy. "Shame it was after you attacked every public wizarding institution in Britain. _And_ after we gave your boys a beating you'll never forget. Care to try to send more people into the castle? Go on, we're waiting."

The general wasn't amused. "Things have gotten out of hand," he admitted.

"On your part, that is," shot Malfoy.

"But we need now to discuss what to do," finished the general.

"Right now, I have a castle full of furious inhabitants," said Malfoy. "We're not discussing anything. Get your men and leave. All of you. By the next few days, there will be no need to talk."

This muggle seemed to know a bit more than a muggle would be expected to know.

"You're going through with it?" he asked. "But the consequences..."

"Will be brilliant, for us," interrupted Malfoy. "Remember, we never wanted to get into this mess of a situation."

"We'll stop you."

"Go on and try," said Malfoy. Seeing the shifty look in the general's eyes, Malfoy laughed. "Do you think I would be sent here if I was also to do that mission? _Please_. Someone else will do it of course. And also, you have no idea how many spells I have cast since walking here. You take me down, I'll take with me a large number of your people. Wizards lose one person, you lot lose many. I'll take that."

Malfoy got up and left without another word. The muggles did nothing to prevent his walk back to the castle.

Back at the castle, in the Headmaster's office, Ron, Harry and Hermione were seated.

"So let me get this right," said Ron. "You both think that we can finally get away from muggle rule, and one of you needs to give up magic?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"And I never got a shot to offer to do the job?" asked Ron, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you think he gave me a shot to offer?" scoffed Hermione, but her eyes had no laughter in them. "He said he was doing it and that was that."

"Well, then," said Ron, folding his arms. "I'm volunteering."

"No," said Harry simply, who turned to his book.

"What?" asked Ron, his voice becoming louder. "Who died and made you king?"

"Do you really want me to list that?" said Harry calmly. "Boy-Who-Lived, remember? The decision is final."

"Do you think we're just going to let you walk there and screw your life?" yelled Ron.

"No," said Harry, seemingly without a care as if they were discussing the weather of a pleasant summer day. "But surely you don't think I'd let any of you do so either?"

"Tough luck," said Ron. "I'm heading over to the others to see their views."

"And I'll ignore them too," said Harry. "This isn't a democracy. I didn't ask your opinion on this. I'm doing it and that's final."

"Sod off it's final," said Ron with disgust. "Give me one good reason why it should be you."

Harry's eyes flashed with anger. "You want one reason?" he asked. "Just one will do?"

"Yeah."

"Because I have nothing to lose," said Harry, angrily.

"What?" said Hermione, choosing to join the conversation here.

"You heard me," said Harry, looking at Hermione now. "I have nothing to lose. The both of you have ties to the magical world."

"And you don't?" asked Ron.

"What do I have?" asked Harry.

"Us," Hermione answered.

"It doesn't count," said Harry. "If either of you were to do it, you'd lose me and the other one too. Each of us stands to lose the other two.

"But don't you see?" Harry continued, his voice getting a bit wild here. "I have nothing else. I can go on to be a muggle and insert myself in their world. Because I'd have to insert myself in the magical world regardless. It makes no difference. Apart from you two, I have nothing, not even my memories, and from what I've heard and seen I must've been one bored wanker because nobody has absolutely anything about me that's remotely interesting."

"That's not true," started Ron.

"What?" asked Harry. "You think because you spent a few years in the muggle world you can live there for the rest of your life? You were born into magic, you breathe it. To be away from it would kill you."

"I had as much a Muggle-born upbringing as you did," said Hermione confidently. "I can go right back."

"No," said Harry, "you can't. You dove head-first into this world. You've spent years, right from the age of eleven immersing yourself into this culture. I never did that. I only learned as I went along what I needed to know. You, on the other hand, have had so much to learn. To take it all away from you would devastate you. Sometimes, Ron and I know you better than you think you know yourself. I don't know if you enjoyed being a muggle as a kid or not, but the moment you found out you were going to Hogwarts, you were drinking in _Hogwarts: A History_ and every other massive tome for light reading you could get your hands on."

"You don't have to be the one who has to do it again, Harry," pleaded Ron. "There's no prophecy. Let someone else sacrifice for once."

"It feels like my life was more prepared for this moment than any other," said Harry. "And that includes fighting Voldemort. Just think, almost every single person I could ever get close to was snatched away from me, and I lose my memory to make things worse. The whole thing seems planned."

"But-" said Ron.

"It has to be me," said Harry. "You're fighting out of stubbornness, but I _know_ you know this. I'll do this and never return to the magical world.

"Ever."

"Why on earth not?" asked Ron, who finally gave in.

"Do you think I want to be constantly reminded of what I no longer have?" said Harry. "It'll kill me. No, I need a clean break from all this. A permanent one."

"Hermione's going with you at least?" asked Ron.

"Yes," said Harry. "I may need magical assistance to leave."

"Can I come?" asked Ron, who already knew the answer.

"We need someone to watch over the castle in case the muggles attack before we reach the cave," explained Harry. "I'm sorry."

"Will you come back to the castle?" asked Ron.

"For what?" Harry queried with a mirthless smile. "Everything I have here is magical. I've already sent a letter to Gringotts to send all my money to Hermione's vault. She'll convert it to muggle pounds and deal with the money transfer to a muggle bank. I would be able to do it on my own, the goblins would surely accommodate me, but I suspect I won't want to go back there either. Memories of when Hagrid first took me there and all.

That's another reason why it should be me: I'm bloody rich. I can spend time relaxing before I start doing something in the muggle world." This time Harry had a bit of mirth in his smile.

"So this is goodbye?" asked Ron, in shock.

"I'm afraid so, mate," said Harry, opening his arms wide. Ron went over and hugged him hard. Harry wanted to say so much, yet had nothing much to say. He could feel Ron's chest shake as he sobbed into Harry's shirt. He wanted to make a joke about Ron crying, but tears were in his eyes already.

As Harry and Hermione walked outside the castle to a spot where they could apparate out, Hermione was not letting the matter go.

"Harry," she said. "You don't have to leave us."

"Of course I do," he said. "You would do the same."

"I could go with you," she said. "We could give us a shot, without the magical world."

"Sorry, but unfortunately that won't work," said Harry. "It's going to almost kill me to give up magic; it's now like the air I breathe. To watch you cast spells, to merely know you can do so, will be a daily reminder of what I can never regain. Nobody should have to go through that."

Hermione's eyes were in tears when they were in the castle, and by now she couldn't stop crying. Harry looked away and tried to grab one last glimpse of the entire castle, despite the fact he'll be trying to forget the entire thing the moment he becomes a muggle. He felt her hand touch his and he closed his fingers around hers. They did not let go as they reached far out of the castle, and they apparated away.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry opened his eyes. They were high on a hill looking down at a large valley. Above them the clear blue sky bathed the entire valley in brilliant yellow light. Harry saw what seemed to almost the size of an entire division of the muggle army encamped in the valley, with a number of helicopters and, using a quick spell allowing him to see far distances, a large number of artillery some kilometres away. Harry noted ominously the military was facing directly at the cave.

"Unexpected," said Hermione, "but unsurprising, really."

"Let's get into the cave," said Harry. "No point waiting for it."

Entering the cave, the saw it empty except for a large stand on it, free from blemish, dust or dirt. Upon entering it, Harry could feel the magic brimming in the air. It felt like all the magic was concentrated in a small space and was burst to be let free. Hermione walked over to the stand and ran her fingers along it, reading the words engraved on the stone. Unbeknown to either of them, the barrier that had stopped so many magical people from approaching the vases before, was no longer there. Harry joined to stand beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder. She turned to him, almost forgetting he was there.

"It's unbelieveable, isn't it?" asked Hermione.

"What does that mean?" Harry wondered, reading the words again.

"I think it means we need to break something," said Hermione.

"Which vase, though?" asked Harry, picking up the marble vase. "And how do you break something made out of gold?"

"If it needs to be broken, it will be," assured Hermione, still observing the words. "We don't come from gold, nor are we returning to it."

"No, but do we come from marble?" asked Harry. "And I thought this cave had a large number of artifacts with unbelievable power."

Hermione turned to Harry to address his point, "It must be the other two vases only with all that power, or the cave itself. Either way, they're not what we've come for." She then turned to the clay vase she was holding, looking hard at it. "This isn't even meant to be a riddle," she mused. "I think it's merely telling us what to do in the plain words of that time which got muddled up in translation."

Harry was looking at the outside of the cave. "Well, whatever it means," he said, "we better finish this off quick. The muggles have seen us enter and they're moving units at us. The artillery should start shooting immediately..."

Harry's words were interrupted by a crash. He turned around in fury, knowing what he was going to see. The clay vase lay in pieces around Hermione's feet. She had a blank look on her face.

"What the blazes did you do that for?" shouted Harry, quickly figuring it out himself.

"It was simple, break clay, where we return to," Hermione said.

"I was supposed to do that!" Harry yelled louder.

"Oops?" shrugged Hermione, with a shadow of a smile. "You didn't really think I was going to let you do it if I could stop you, did you?"

Harry could feel the magic around him become disturbed. The magic started to leave the cave, a lot of it passing through Harry on it's way out. As it went through him, Harry momentarily became aware of so much information at once. He could see almost every muggle face in the valley, every machine they used, he could hear their shouts as they barked orders, and he could feel the magic beginning to work its effects on the muggles everywhere. But, inexplicably, Harry knew he and Hermione had to leave immediately, that the muggles will strike before their memories get modified. The entire cave shook as an explosion rocked the side of the hill. Debris began to fall onto the cave-floor.

"Let's go, Hermione," he growled. "The cave's protection is gone."

Yet Harry could not move, so much magic was around him. It was unbelievable. He felt magic flow through every vessel within him, he felt more magical than human. And still, magic continued to leave the cave.

Suddenly, Harry's consciousness fixed on one shell that was in one artillery somewhere in the valley. He watched the artillery unit blast the shell out and watched it fly in the air towards the cave. Harry knew this shell would hit its target perfectly. He saw time slow itself down the moment he reached this realisation. But his movements were also slowed.

Harry watched Hermione across the room and knew, through all the magic still flowing through him, that there was no way he could reach her in time. For a microsecond, Harry was faced with a decision, which he decided upon immediately.

Quickly shouting the words of the _Eurysaces_ spell, a shimmering silver globe surrounded Hermione. Harry continued to wave his wand as she looked to him in shock, realising what he was doing. She screamed a "No!", but Harry only smiled at her as she felt the world around her dissolve.

Before the world completely disappeared, Hermione saw the entire cave erupt in flames quicker than a blink of the eye, and Harry disappear in the golden blaze, still with that sad grin on his face.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_A significant time later._

The hospital was very busy that night. A large accident happened in a road nearby with an overturned bus. Doctors and nurses rushed around the corridors to try to get to those who needed them most. Friends and families of the patients constantly asked for updates when they weren't pacing around the very crowded waiting rooms.

"Dr. Granger," said a male voice in the intercom. "Dr. Granger, you're needed at room 43 quickly."

A woman in a white coat, with bushy hair rushed from one room, blood on her coat, and quickly threw out the coat and gloves in the dirty laundry room, and picked up a clean coat and gloves as she rushed down the hall to room 43. There a patient was suffering from complications regarding the accident and the nurses needed help.

The night wore on like that until Dr. Granger left at 3:53 in the morning to go back home. As she left the building, she saw a red-headed man seated on a bench.

"You must be cold, Ron," she said. "How long did you wait?"

"Quite awhile," admitted Ron. "But you were way too busy to interfere with."

"Was there anything that you needed me for?" asked Hermione, continuing to walk, with Ron matching her pace.

"No, no," said Ron. "It's only been three years since I last saw you. I wanted to see how you were."

Hermione's eyes softened and she could no longer resist leaning to Ron and enveloping him in a tight embrace. "I missed you too," she said into his shoulder.

"I heard your daughter has just been admitted to Hogwarts," said Ron.

Hermione beamed. "Yes, she did," she said. "Helen Granger, Hogwarts student."

"How does the father feel about it?" asked Ron tentatively. "Being a muggle and all?"

"Well, given we were divorced since she was six months old," said Hermione, "I'm wondering if I should tell him at all."

"Tell him," said Ron. "You know you would've wanted to know in that place."

"You're right," she said.

"Look," said Ron, "Since it's been so long and you've made a life in the muggle world, I think it's time you renew some connections in the wizarding world. Especially considering you now have a witch daughter. He would've gone back by now, too."

Hermione sighed sadly, "Don't remind me," she said. "I still feel guilty spending the half of his inheritance he left me."

"Tell me about it," said Ron. "I still have a lot to go through. Harry was richer than even he ever let us know.

"But seriously, Hermione," he said. "You don't need to be so far away anymore."

Hermione seemed unsure for a few seconds, and Ron frowned, but then she smiled. "Yeah, I think it is time, too."

Ron beamed at her.

* * *

A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I have. I had the ending in mind for chapters, but as I kept coming closer to it, I became resistant to it. I got attached to characters and I was tempted to finish things in a neat red ribbon. But the story was meant to finish this way.

I wrote this chapter out quickly as I didn't trust myself to not change my mind. Yes, the story merely ends right then and there, but it's deliberate. I'll leave the readers to each feel what life may be like after.

And that's it for this story. I'm preparing a new story, like I said earlier, but how did this story go for you? Writing this, I've learned from a number of errors in my writing and planning, and I think I have improved somewhat in the writing. But if you have any thoughts on the story or how I wrote, do share them as I'll make sure to keep them in mind for the next story, which again has nothing to do with this one.

Also, any final notes on the story as a whole would be appreciated. Any surprises? Anything you predicted was going to happen while reading the story? Anything you liked? Didn't like? Which characters did you feel I fleshed out well enough and which did you think there should've been more seen of?

Again, I hope you've enjoyed this story because I enjoyed writing it, and I also hope there was some originality in it which was the main thing I was going for.


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